


Blood Rites

by Arionrhod, McKay



Series: The Awakening [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-03 02:16:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 50,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10957593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arionrhod/pseuds/Arionrhod, https://archiveofourown.org/users/McKay/pseuds/McKay
Summary: For centuries, the vampires and werewolves have been at war, each struggling for supremacy while avoiding the attention of humans. As a Death Eater, Severus lives to hunt and kill werewolves, but when he meets Remus Lupin, everything he believes in is challenged - and changed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2009. Written for the Snupin Big Bang 2009. Content: supernatural but non-HP-magical AU, violence, vampirism with the associated blood-drinking and biting that comes with it.

It was raining; cold, heavy droplets were falling from bloated clouds in a sullen night sky, the sort of rain that one didn't linger in, for it chilled to the bone and made even a brief passage between buildings a misery to be avoided. From the way the figures below scurried, it appeared they considered it a miserable night - as he might have himself, once upon a time. 

Wet rivulets dripped from his long, black hair, matting it to his cheeks, but he barely noticed; he'd long ago become inured to such mundane things as cold and damp. Dark eyes scanned the humans hurrying beneath him, passing over all of them as unremarkable, barely of note. And so they were, mere sheep intent upon errands of no consequence, not seeing the still figure of death perched above them like a specter, a hunter looking for prey. But a special prey, not one of the bits of flesh and blood who were too stupid and unimaginative to recognize their own triviality. Those for whom he hunted were a step above mere humans. Just barely, in his opinion. It was, however, that tiny bit of difference that made them a danger, one to be killed on sight.

He snapped his head up, his eyes focusing on a pair of men below him who walked with bare heads among the sea of hoods and umbrellas. That was the main advantage of the rain; it made them stand out, for they were as immune to the weather as he was himself. He scowled, his brow furrowed as he watched them, something about their actions seeming not quite right, more than just two companions traveling between one location and another. Yet there was no mistaking who, or rather what, they were. The way they moved was as distinctive to him as a shout. 

Hearing the whir of a camera next to him, he let out a small huff. "I'll track, you follow," he said, his low, deep voice almost inaudible. But it was enough for his companion to hear, and he didn't wait for an acknowledgment before rising from his perch, separating himself from the stone gargoyle he'd crouched upon like a statue suddenly coming to life. Then he took a step forward into empty air, gravity pulling him down toward the wet, slick pavement a dozen meters below. A fall of that magnitude would kill an ordinary human, but he was far from ordinary and no longer quite human. His thick leather boots hit the ground, but he flexed his knees and then straightened, his black leather coat lifting behind him with a snap like the wings of a bat. Then he was moving again, threading through the bodies of the pedestrians, avoiding them instinctively while his eyes were locked on the bare heads and broad shoulders of the figures he followed. They were dead already, and they didn't even know it, just two more to add to his body count. 

That was what he did. He, Severus Snape, was a Death Eater, a vampire who existed only to kill werewolves; unfortunately for the two he was now tracking, he was very, very good at his job.

* * *

As he slogged through the downpour, Remus debated the wisdom of returning to his tiny apartment to shower and catch a few hours of sleep; it would have been easier - and drier - if he'd stayed at the hospital, but he'd lived there for the past three days straight, and he desperately needed a respite from the drab walls, the antiseptic stink, and the snoring of other exhausted interns. He also wanted a cup of decent coffee and something to eat other than the over-priced, over-processed cafeteria food, although everything in his fridge was probably spoiled at this point, and he was too tired to think about stopping for groceries. He'd make do with whatever canned goods he had and get a decent breakfast in the morning.

Despite his fatigue, he remained mindful of his surroundings; it didn't pay to be inattentive when there were muggers and pickpockets about, and he kept his head down, but his eyes open as he hurried along. Normally, he didn't consider himself the paranoid type, but he couldn't shake off a prickling feeling on the back of his neck, like he was being watched, and he glanced around furtively.

Two men stood out in the crowd, both of them tall and muscular; neither of them were wearing hoods or carrying umbrellas, which was odd in and of itself, and he could see one was dark-haired and the other was bald. They looked like bouncers or bodyguards, and his first thought was that he would hate to have either of them after him, much less both.

Five minutes and several more careful glances later, he wondered if he _did_ have them after him. Perhaps it was mere coincidence, but he quickened his pace nonetheless, eager to lose them in the crowd as he headed for the entrance to the subway.

* * *

The werewolves suddenly picked up their pace, and Severus frowned as he sped up as well, keeping them in sight but far enough ahead of him that they wouldn't catch his scent. It was difficult in the press of bodies that surrounded him, and the crowd thickened as they approached the stairs leading down to the subway. The damned lycanthropes were definitely up to something, and he began to suspect that they were hunting as well, although what they could be seeking puzzled him. There were no vampires away from the safety of the mansion tonight, and if the beasts were looking to feed on or turn a human, they'd hardly be so blatant about it. But it was obvious they were after something or someone, and Severus was determined to find out what or who it was. 

He turned to glance behind him, a swift look which allowed him to catch a glimpse of Goyle, trailing along in his wake at a safe distance. Severus was just as glad the other vampire was keeping his distance; Goyle was not one of the elite among the Death Eaters, and it was not Severus' place to question why his lord and master chose the servants he did. But not questioning and accepting fully were two different things, and Severus didn't want his hunt spoiled by an associate who was barely able to shoot a gun with competence. Fortunately, Goyle had been given a camera rather than a gun, which didn't require as much finesse, and it helped them to identify the lycanthropes they killed, and for that reason, Severus tolerated his companion, even if he sometimes wished the werewolves would be of use for once and permanently remove the burden Goyle presented. Alas, he was too competent a killer to allow that to happen, and so he was stuck with Goyle from time to time for patrol duty. 

Returning his attention to his quarry, Severus snarled as he noticed them descending the stairs. There were enough people in his way that he lost sight of them, and he pushed through the press of bodies, not caring if anyone thought he was rude. He gained the bottom of the stairs and immediately slipped behind a wide, tiled column, which hid him from the view of anyone ahead. The werewolves were paranoid enough to keep an eye out, and he didn't want to risk being seen. A quick glance showed him that the lycanthropes were staying to the train-side of the platform, and so Severus began to move quickly from column to column, gaining on the werewolves and whatever it was they were after. He felt excitement start to build, the thrill of the hunt overcoming him as it always did. Not that either he or the werewolves could do anything blatant with so many humans around. There were rules of engagement to be followed; or at least there were until one of them broke the rules. At that point, all bets were off, and woe betide anyone caught in the crossfire.

* * *

At first, Remus had been willing to concede he might be paranoid in thinking the two bruisers were following him, but now, he thought his paranoia was entirely justified. Instead of feeling safer in the crowd, he felt far too exposed, and he hurried to find his train. Perhaps if he jumped on and the doors closed quickly enough, he would lose the gruesome twosome before they could catch up. He couldn't begin to imagine what they wanted with him; if they were looking to shake someone down for money, there were easier, better marks than an intern wearing faded jeans and a second-hand leather bomber jacket over a ratty old hooded sweatshirt instead of an Armani suit and Gucci loafers. Curious he may be, but he wasn't curious enough to let them catch him so he could find out what they wanted.

Since he hadn't been able to shake them even amid a crowd, Remus decided to try more direct means of losing them, and he quickened his pace from a brisk walk to a near-run. He dodged around a few slow-moving people and darted around a column, planning to duck out of sight and perhaps double-back.

Until he nearly collided with a tall, black-clad man.

He glanced up, but instinctive words of apology died unspoken on his lips, and even though he'd stopped just short of impact, he felt as if all the breath had been knocked out of his lungs. _Sleek_ was the first coherent thought that popped in his mind as he stared at the man, drowning in fathomless dark eyes. Pale skin framed by ink-black hair, a hawkish nose - fleeting impressions flooded Remus' reeling mind, and for the first time, he thought love at first sight might actually be real.

* * *

At last, Severus had drawn well ahead of the werewolves, and he paused for a moment, slipping to the front of the next-to-last column on the platform. By his reckoning, the werewolves would be there in a matter of moments, and he needed to figure out if he could determine what they were looking for. Seeing them from ahead rather than behind would allow him to track their eyes, and so he moved again, skirting around the column, intent on looking back down the platform without being seen. 

Unfortunately his plans were thwarted as his way was suddenly blocked by a body. A lean male body clad in jeans and a leather jacket... but it was the sensitive face, damp, tousled brown hair, and especially the clear blue eyes which arrested Severus' attention, causing him to go still, unable to tear his gaze away. 

He'd not seen the summer sky in hundreds of years, but he remembered the color well, and it was recalled in the eyes of this human. A young human, or at least he seemed so to Severus, especially given the innocence in his gaze. He was used to seeing eyes filled with bitterness or weariness or jaded boredom, not eyes that looked as if they had rarely, if ever, known pain. Severus suddenly hungered, but not for blood; what he wanted was something deeper and even more basic, an urge he'd not felt... well, perhaps he'd never felt it, not like this. Those eyes beckoned to him, and it was a call he longed to answer. 

He wasn't certain how long they would have stood there, staring at each other, if he'd not heard a growl, one that caused his hunter's instincts to return in full force. 

 

It was hard to pull his eyes away from the human, but he did so, flowing past him in a single, fluid movement as he stepped around the column and looked in the direction the lycanthropes were approaching from. Time slowed, and he watched as the two werewolves began to turn around, their faces changing as lips pulled back in identical snarls from viciously pointed teeth. But it wasn't Severus they'd sensed; they were still turning, and he looked past them to see what they had seen. When he found it, he could have growled as well. 

Goyle, still holding the bedamned camera, had gotten too close, and they'd scented him. His annoyance at his partner's incompetence was transmuted to shock as the lycanthropes, heedless of the humans around them, pulled guns from beneath their coats and began to fire. 

It was unheard of; the war was kept from the human world as much as possible. As powerful as vampires and werewolves were, they were outnumbered millions to one by the mass of mortals around them. There was a reason the old laws existed and why both sides respected them; if humans learned they existed, their war to exterminate each other would quickly turn into a massacre of both sides. 

At this point, however, the battle had been joined, and, right or wrong, Severus had to end it. Beneath his black leather coat were his weapons, a matched set of automatic handguns provided by the finest weapons expert the vampires had ever had. Severus drew them in a smooth, practiced motion, then moved forward, firing with inhuman speed at the werewolves who were now closing on Goyle, who finally had guessed that his death was rapidly approaching and dropped the camera in favor of going for his own gun. 

Humans were screaming around him, but Severus paid them no heed. Blood-lust was singing in his veins, replacing the different lust he'd felt moments before. It was now time for killing.

* * *

Things happened so quickly, Remus scarcely realized the tall stranger was gone before gunshots rang out, and his instincts urged him to dive for cover; he was a healer, not a fighter, and leather was no match for bullets. Screams echoed off the concrete walls, and all around him, people began to panic, the crowd turning into a stampeding herd of life, fleeing the gun-wielding combatants.

Crouching low, Remus moved from pillar to pillar, trying to move away from the gunfire, but he was arrested in his flight by the sight of a woman slumped against the wall, whimpering in pain, and he could see blood seeping between her fingers as she clutched her midsection. He veered toward her and knelt beside her, assessing the extent of her injuries.

"It's okay," he murmured soothingly and reached into his pocket for his cellphone, flipping it open. "You'll be okay, I promise." He rested his hand on her shoulder as he called emergency services, awash in relief as soon as he heard a voice on the other end. This whole thing seemed so surreal, so nightmarish, that he was grateful to find one touchstone of normality amid the chaos. "Someone has opened fire in the subway station," he said, the words pouring out in an adrenaline-fueled rush. "We need an ambulance and the police _now_."

The operator asked for the address, and he refrained from hitting himself on the forehead for forgetting that crucial bit of information as he told her where he was and answered the rest of her questions as best he could while keeping an eye out for the gunmen. He couldn't see where they were thanks to the crowd, and he hoped his tall, dark stranger had gotten away safely.

* * *

Still firing, Severus strode forward, humans dodging out of his way with screams of pure terror as they seemed to recognize the figure of death incarnate. The werewolves split up, realizing now that they were about to be caught in a crossfire as Goyle, at long last, began to fire his own weapon. Silver slugs sang off the stone walls, and others impacted in lycanthrope flesh with a much more satisfying dull thud. It didn't do more than slow the damned beasts, though; there was very little that could kill a werewolf short of decapitation or being shot so full of silver that they couldn't regenerate. The bastards were tough, he'd give them that, but he wouldn't enjoy the killing so much if it were easy. 

One werewolf kept after Goyle, who, miracle of miracles, was somehow still on his feet. The other dodged around a column, obviously trying to flank Severus, but Severus slipped around as well, spotting his quarry at once. They fired at each other, and Severus cursed as he realized he was running low on ammunition. Making a swift decision, he dodged behind another column, ejecting the magazines from both guns with a practiced gesture and slamming fresh clips in place quickly. 

He decided to do a little flanking of his own, circling the column in the other direction, and when he came out, his eyes widened at what he saw. 

The werewolf he was after was the bigger of the two, massive even in his untransformed state, with ebony skin and a bald head that gleamed under the lights. He was hit, no doubt about it, because Severus could smell his blood on the air, sweeter than perfume, and see the oozing entry wounds in the leather of his jacket. But the werewolf had for some suicidal reason decided to ignore the Death Eater he'd been fighting; while Severus reloaded, the beast had moved toward a human. And not just any human; it was the man Severus had come face to face with, the man with the blue eyes. 

Rage, redder than blood and almost as potent, surged through him, and Severus felt a cry ripped from his throat. He began to fire his guns on full automatic, sending a hail of bullets toward the werewolf, who was reaching out with a huge hand toward the human. Severus didn't stop to ponder the beast's intentions; the werewolf was about to touch the man, and Severus knew he was going to stop it at any cost.

* * *

Engrossed in trying to stabilize the woman before the paramedics arrived, Remus didn't notice one of the bruisers who'd been following him now bearing down on him. He was startled out of his intense focus by a cry, one both harsher and less panicked than the rest; he'd been able to tune out the screams of the stampeding crowd, but this sound got his attention, sending a shock straight into his lizard brain that warned him a predator was on the hunt. Instinctively, he whirled - and stared into the snarling face of the bruiser.

"Shit!"

Even if his reflexes had kicked in quickly, he wouldn't have had time to wriggle away, and the bruiser grabbed the front of his university sweatshirt, lifting him with frightening ease, even for a man so tall and broad. Remus struggled to resist the man's inexorable grasp, but he'd scarcely made it to his knees before gunshots rang out, and the man released him, sending him tumbling to the cold concrete floor again.

He crouched on his hands and knees, looking up to see what had happened as the man snarled and ran off. Through the crowd, Remus could see the stranger standing there, arms outstretched and a gun in each hand. He appeared calm even amidst the chaos swirling around them, his expression stoic and focused - and unsettling. With the guns and the billowing coat, he looked like something out of a movie, but the blood trail the big man had left in his wake made it clear the guns were no props. Had the stranger been the one to open fire in the first place? For some inexplicable reason, Remus hoped not. But even if the stranger hadn't started this fracas, he clearly intended to finish it.

Shaking his hair out of his eyes, Remus rocked back on his heels, his heart thudding against the walls of his chest. Was he to be shot next? he wondered as he stared down the barrels of those sleek guns. Despite the obvious danger, he felt neither panic nor fear; perhaps he'd moved into a state of detached shock because he had no reason to trust the stranger, but unless the stranger had shot the man so he could kill Remus himself, it seemed as if the stranger had just saved his life.

* * *

Severus watched with clinical detachment as the big werewolf picked the human up. He didn't stop firing, not for a moment, and, as he had hoped, the sheer amount of silver finally got to the lycanthrope, forcing him to release his prey, and he whirled and roared at Severus before loping away. Grimly satisfied that his attack had worked, Severus spared a moment to look at the human. 

"Get out of here. NOW." 

His voice was low, pitched only for the human, but he didn't have time to wait to see if the human obeyed. He didn't even know why he gave the warning; by rights, he shouldn't give a damn about why the werewolf had attacked the human. But Severus was operating on pure instinct, and he couldn't have stopped himself from saying the words any more than he could have stopped himself from chasing after the werewolf. 

Something was definitely off about the entire situation, but he didn't have time to analyze it. Not now, not when his quarry was about to escape. Moving at a speed no human could match, Severus darted after the werewolf, intent on death. 

The big lycanthrope circled around a pillar ahead, Severus hot on his heels. The brute was headed back toward the entrance, where Severus could still hear the shots from Goyle's gun and that of the werewolf he was fighting. As Goyle came into sight, the werewolf Severus was chasing suddenly pulled another gun from within his jacket, turning and firing at Severus with an expression of loathing on his face. Severus managed to launch himself into the air, the bullets passing harmlessly beneath him, although their passage was oddly bright, hurting his eyes in a way he'd never experienced before. Even before he landed, the lycanthrope was turning again, facing Goyle, and as Severus hit the ground on his feet, the werewolf emptied the rest of his clip into Goyle, hitting him squarely in the chest. 

"GO." 

The world was a low-pitched snarl from the big werewolf's throat, and the smaller werewolf broke off his attack. Severus barely noticed the werewolves breaking away toward the tracks, however; he was too busy watching in horror as Goyle fell back to the floor, an odd, violet light seeming to consume him from within. 

Goyle's face contorted in agony, his hands twisted into claws and coming up to tear uselessly at his throat. The light seemed to glow from Goyle's screaming mouth, and then, in the time it took for Severus to lower his arms to his sides, Goyle seemed to collapse in upon himself, the dazzling light forcing Severus to turn his face away. When he looked back a moment later, nothing remained of the other vampire except a pile of black ash, matted to the floor by the dampness. 

This was something beyond Severus' experience, and suddenly his pursuit of the werewolves took on an even greater urgency. He spared a moment to snatch up the camera Goyle had dropped, not knowing if it contained something that would help make sense of this nightmarish situation, and then he turned and took off after the fleeing lycanthropes. 

They were far ahead of him on the platform, one of them ducking into the open door of the train on the platform. Severus followed, running down the length of the car, firing as he moved. The lycanthrope hit the end of the train, bursting through the window at the stop of the door in a shower of broken glass. Severus gathered himself and leaped, his body flattening out as he dove through the opening in the werewolf's wake. 

He landed hard, taking the impact on a shoulder but rolling to his feet. The werewolf was headed down the tracks, and Severus followed. No matter where the lycanthrope went, Severus would be on his heels. He wouldn't give up, even if he had to chase the damned animal all the way to the doors of hell itself.

* * *

Despite the note of command in the stranger's voice, Remus hesitated to obey; he was torn between his instincts as a healer and his instincts as a human, one urging him to stay and tend to the wounded and the other urging him to listen to the stranger and get the hell out of there as quickly as possible.

If he'd been another face in the crowd, he might have stayed to help until the paramedics arrived and took over, but he wasn't. The bruisers had been following him - of that, he was no longer doubtful - and for some reason, they had targeted him specifically. That being the case, perhaps it was best to heed the stranger's warning before one of the bruisers came back for him or more of them arrived.

Scrambling to his feet, he glanced around to make sure neither of the two men were near enough to see which way he was going; he could hear more gunfire and an agonized scream somewhere up ahead, and he whirled and ran in the opposite direction, headed for the nearest train.

Paranoia gripped him, making him wonder if he had other, unseen stalkers after him, and a bark of hysterical laughter escaped him as he pelted down the corridor, dodging and weaving around pillars in hopes of throwing off any trackers. He felt as if he'd been dropped onto the set of a movie; things like this weren't supposed to happen in real life, at least not to him.

Instead of jumping on the next train as he'd first thought to do, he ran further, not wanting to lead his pursuers back to his home; instead, he kept running until he found a train about to depart, and he jumped on before the doors could close, not even looking to see where it was going. He'd change trains a few times before heading home just to make sure he wasn't still being followed.

Exhausted, he dropped into an empty seat, ignoring the other passengers looking askance at him until he realized they weren't eyeballing him because he was gasping for breath - that wasn't uncommon for someone trying to catch a train - but because the woman's blood was on his sweatshirt and his hands. Maybe they thought _he_ was about to pull a gun and start shooting, he thought, clamping down on an hysterical giggle.

Leaning back, he sighed and closed his eyes briefly. He'd call the police and give his report once he got home; he didn't really want to recount all that in a car full of other people who already thought he was a crazed killer, especially given the particular details he had to share. The rhythmic jostling of the car relaxed him and soothed his jangled nerves, but he was still watchful and alert. He hoped he would never see those two bruisers or anyone like them ever again, but the stranger...

Well, if they did meet again, he hoped it wouldn't be across the barrel of a gun.

~*~*~*~*~*~


	2. Chapter 2

"He wants to see you." 

Severus turned toward the sound of the husky, feminine voice, unsurprised to see Narcissa step from the shadowed doorway, her blonde hair glowing even in the low light of the study. She smiled at him, a pleasant expression, but Severus wasn't fooled for a moment. Narcissa had no liking for him at all, and normally she wouldn't play the servant, carrying messages like some freshly-turned neophyte. It was only because of whom the message was from, and, ironically, it was a summons Severus had absolutely no desire to answer, for he loathed Lucius even more than Narcissa loathed him. 

"I am busy," he replied, his eyes returning to the computer screen where images from Goyle's camera were displayed. He needed to find out what the lycanthropes had been up to and do it before the time, two days hence, when Bellatrix would return to the mansion their coven called home to turn power over to Gellert, the elder who would assume the mantle of leadership for the next hundred years. The lycanthropes knew of the vampire's customs, and Severus couldn't shake the feeling the things he'd seen earlier that evening were somehow connected to Bellatrix's return and the transition of power. He just needed to find proof; as much as he trusted his own instincts, it wouldn't be enough for one the elders to take action, not without proof. And even proof might not be enough with a useless piece of shit like Lucius Malfoy in charge. 

Narcissa stepped closer, gazing at him intently. She wanted Lucius with all the strength that Lucius wanted Severus, and it would have been Severus' pleasure to steer Lucius' interest in her direction if at all possible, so as to spare himself Lucius' revolting attentions. As it was, Narcissa was always on the prowl for anything that would enhance her place in Lucius' estimation and make Severus look bad at the same time. It would have been amusing if the whole thing hadn't made Severus want to snarl in frustration. 

"So you won't come to him? Even though he is master here?" she asked, no doubt seeking to push Severus into saying something she could use against him. He gave a nasty smile and decided to oblige her by saying exactly what he thought. 

"As far as I am concerned, Voldemort is master here; Lucius is nothing but an incompetent flunky who plays at being lord while his betters sleep." 

"Oh..." Apparently Severus' words pleased Narcissa a great deal, for there was an avid expression in her eyes that Severus found sickening. "Well, then, I'll tell him what you said. I'm sure he'll have something to say to you in return." 

"No doubt he will, unfortunately," Severus said, and then he waved her away, distantly pleased by the expression of fury which crossed her face at the dismissal. By the time she slammed the door of the study behind her, Severus was already engrossed in the photos again. 

Goyle had managed to get clear shots of the lycanthropes as they walked toward the position where the two vampires had been watching. Severus searched their faces, noticing their eyes focused straight ahead, intent on... something. Something he couldn't find in the pictures, but which he knew had to be there. 

He slammed his hand down on the desk, a snarl on his lips. The damned werewolves had managed to get away from him in the subway, although he knew he'd hurt both of them badly and possibly even killed one. It had been obvious the beasts knew those tunnels better than he did, and they were able to maneuver through the narrow passages, doubling back on him and attempting to trap him between them. They'd both transformed into their bestial forms, making them even harder to kill, although he'd done his level best. He had tracked them to a section of the tunnels where he could hear the snarling and shouting of more werewolves, no doubt a fortified base the beasts used, living like the filthy rats they were. If he'd not been low on ammunition, he would have gone in and taken out as many of them as possible, but he hadn't lived as long as he had by indulging in suicidal operations. It burned to know they'd escaped, but he memorized the tunnel layout as he withdrew. He'd be back with even more firepower to clear out the nest of the foul creatures, slaughtering them in their hole. It was no more than they deserved. 

But there was more to the actions of those lycanthropes than a mere return to their pack. Again Severus sorted through the pictures, certain that something was there, something that would tell him what was so damned important to the beasts. He focused not on the werewolves, but on the people in front of them, and suddenly, in one of the shots, he saw a cut-off head at the bottom of the picture, all but obscured by a hood. The image was black and white and grainy, but Severus felt a tiny flare of excitement. He looked at the werewolves in the image, and he was convinced this was the focus of their interest, for both pairs of eyes were looking right at the figure. 

He clamped down on his excitement as he cropped the photo down to the head, then ran the enhancement routine to bring the figure into better focus. It seemed to take an eternity, the pixels on the screen narrowing and narrowing at a glacial pace. But then the face suddenly sprang into focus, and Severus told himself he wasn't surprised when the sensitive face and innocent eyes of the human he'd saved stared back at him from the screen. 

The werewolves _had_ been after his human! Severus' lips twisted in a snarl of hatred, not for the human, but for the beasts who had been pursuing him. But if the lycanthropes were interested in him, then there was only one thing Severus could do. 

Two minutes later, when Lucius stalked into the study to confront Severus for his insubordination, all he found was an empty room. Outside the huge mansion, there came the sound of screeching tires as a car tore out of the driveway. Someone was obviously in a hurry, and from the twisted expression on Lucius' face, it was obvious he knew who it was.

* * *

Remus wasn't sure how much time had passed since he'd fled the subway station and begun riding random trains in hopes of throwing off further pursuit; it wasn't until he had calmed down enough to look around with a more objective eye, scanning the people around him for anyone who looked like the two goons from earlier, that he began making his way home. He did stop and wash his hands and scrubbed the blood off his sweatshirt as best he could, but he figured it was probably fit only for the garbage after this.

Now that the adrenaline rush had worn off, he was even more exhausted than he had been when he'd left the hospital, and he'd have to turn around and go right back after a scant bit of sleep - _if_ he could even get to sleep after this. Still, he needed to rest, if only for a little while, and he was relieved to get home in one piece.

His relief was short-lived when he turned the corner and looked down the hall only to see the his door standing wide open. Either by some massive coincidence, he'd been robbed or whoever was after him had found out where he lived.

The smart thing to do, he realized much later when it was far too late, would have been to back away slowly, get back on the elevator, and call the cops. Walking into a dark apartment, unarmed, without turning on the lights was _not_ the smart thing to do. Not even close. But Remus was running on mere fumes of energy, and he wasn't thinking straight. He wasn't thinking much at all, really, and he was starting to get pissed off too.

Who the fuck were these people, and what did they want with him? He wasn't rich or powerful, and neither was his family; as far as he knew, he hadn't somehow ended up with top secret government information disguised as a patient's medical record, so he had no idea why anyone would be after him. And damn it, locksmiths were expensive, and he guessed kicked-in doors weren't cheap to fix either.

Armed only with growing indignation and anger, he stepped into his apartment, looking around warily for any sign of his intruder. With any luck, he could make it to the kitchen and grab a butcher knife, just in case the intruder was still there.

* * *

Severus had easily located the apartment of the human, whose name, he had learned from his search of the extensive number of databases the vampires had access to, was Remus Lupin. He didn't dwell on the fact that he found the name as pleasant as the human's face; this was a mission, and he couldn't allow it to be anything more than that; his job was to protect the coven and kill the werewolves, nothing more. Personal entanglements with mortals were frowned upon, unless the vampire in question intended to turn the mortal, which was something Severus had never done. 

Lupin wasn't home, as it happened, not that any mere locked door was going to keep Severus out, and fortunately the idiotic myth that vampires must be invited into a human's home before they could enter wasn't true. Within seconds, Severus had kicked open the door, and he prowled inside, gun drawn, looking for any indication that the lycanthropes had arrived ahead of him and were lying in wait. 

The place was empty, however, and Severus began to search through Lupin's belongings, looking for any indication of why the werewolves were interested in him. He'd already learned that Lupin was a doctor from his quick database search, but that, in and of itself, wasn't anything the werewolves needed. They had their own doctors, some of them even skilled enough to have come up with the formula which gave werewolves control over their transformations, rather than leaving them, as they had been for centuries, at the mercy of the moon. That ability had made the damned beasts that much more dangerous and difficult to kill, but there was no hint in Lupin's records that he possessed the knowledge to expand upon the werewolves' current abilities. 

The phone rang, and Severus froze, listening as the answering machine picked up, and someone with a male voice that sounded both young and strained warned there were police at the hospital, asking questions about Lupin's involvement in the subway shooting. Severus frowned at that. How in the hell would the cops have found out so quickly that Lupin had any involvement at all? It reeked of a trap, and Severus snarled silently; the werewolves could actually have people on the police force, and the vampires, for obvious reasons, would find such infiltration far more difficult. It was yet another piece of information he needed to get to his master before this entire thing blew up in their faces. 

A sound came from the doorway, and Severus stepped into the shadows by the window, effectively disappearing from view. As he watched, Lupin himself stepped into the apartment, wearing an expression that was a combination of wariness and outrage, no doubt because Severus had left the door open. He let Lupin get completely inside the apartment before he moved, faster than any mortal eye could follow, closing the door and grasping Lupin by the shoulders of his jacket, lifting him as easily as he would a child and pinning Lupin against the wall. 

"Why are they after you?" he asked, his voice deep and huskier than he might have liked as he looked up into Lupin's blue eyes. "What do you have that they want?" 

Lupin's eyes grew wide and round with shock, and Lupin clutched Severus' arms, his mouth opened and closing a few times before words actually came out.

"I don't know!" Lupin said at last in a voice that might have been warm and pleasant to listen to under different circumstances. "I don't even know who 'they' are, and I sure as hell don't know why they're after me."

 

Severus' eyes narrowed. He could smell a lie, but this time, his senses told him Lupin was telling the truth. Whatever the werewolves wanted from the man, Lupin didn't know what it was, and Severus let Lupin slide down the wall, stepping back and crossing his arms across his chest. 

"They wanted something. What makes you special, then? Why would anyone follow you, want to take you prisoner, perhaps kill you? Make no mistake, it was definitely you they were after, and I have to know why." 

Lupin remained plastered against the wall, shrinking back as if trying to put some distance between himself and Severus, and he shook his head again, watching Severus with a wary look in his pale eyes. "I told you I don't know," he repeated, an edge creeping into his voice. "I'm just an intern, that's all. I'm not working on any top secret projects, I don't have access to top secret information, and I'm not one of the rich and powerful. They must have the wrong guy, because I'm _not_ special."

 

It was on the tip of Severus' tongue to argue with Lupin; the man _was_ special, and, his traitorous mind whispered to him, not just because the thrice-damned werewolves were after him. But any thought on the subject had to remain unvoiced, for Severus stiffened as he heard the sound of claws cross the floor above them. Lots of claws, the familiar sound of werewolves in their bestial state. 

Without stopping to think, he grabbed Lupin's hand and pulled him toward the door. Behind them, he heard the sound of breaking wood and shattering plaster, and he opened the door, pushing Lupin into the hallway with one hand and drawing a gun with the other. He began to fire into the apartment, hoping to slow the beasts. 

"Run!" he told Lupin, not wasting any time looking behind him. "If you don't want them to catch you, you'd better run as you've never done in your life." 

There was a pause followed by the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps that let him know Lupin had heeded his order with alacrity.

 

Severus continued to fire at the werewolves as he backed down the hall in Lupin's wake. He drew his second gun, doubling his rate of fire, and managed to get a lucky shot into the lead werewolf, hitting him through the eye and into the brain, one of the few shots that would actually kill the beast outright. The werewolf dropped, but there were two more behind him, and Severus retreated as quickly as he could, not wanting to let Lupin get too far ahead. 

He heard Lupin pounding at the elevator button as he continued his retreat. He was hurting the werewolves, but they still advanced, clinging to the walls with their claws like great, hairy insects. 

"When it comes, get in!" he told Lupin, risking a glance over his shoulder. 

There was something wrong about this situation; the werewolves should have pounced on him by now, but instead it was almost as though he and Lupin were being herded, although toward what Severus couldn't begin to imagine. All he could do was fight his way out of this situation as best as he could and hope that neither he nor Lupin managed to get themselves killed in the process.

* * *

Despite the fact that Mr. Billowy Coat Bad-Ass obviously knew who 'they' were, Remus didn't stop to ask questions when told to run. He still wasn't sure if he was trusting the right person, but between the man with the guns and the bruiser who had growled in his face, Remus would take the man with the guns. At least Mr. Bad-Ass had _talked_ to him and hadn't shot at him, which was slightly more reassuring despite the weird - and intimidating - display of strength.

"I want the blue pill, damn it," he muttered as he stabbed at the elevator button in a fruitless attempt to make the elevator move faster. "The _blue_ one, not the red one."

After an eternity, the elevator rumbled to a stop on his floor, the bell dinged, and the doors slid open; Remus was primed to rush in, but he froze when he saw a man inside. Average height, unkempt dark hair, wearing clothes that appeared to be second-hand at best except for a glittering pendant on a faded leather necklace. The man was unprepossessing - except for the feral light in his eyes that made Remus recoil instinctively.

Baring his teeth in a smile that was far from reassuring, the man prowled forward and, giving Remus the feeling he was being stalked, and he began backing up, holding up both hands.

"Uh, Morpheus..." he called over his shoulder, fighting the rising panic he could hear creeping into his voice as the strange man stretched out his hand. "We've got a problem!"

 

His eyes fixed on the strange new-comer, he kept backing up; he had no idea where he was going or how he would escape, but he wasn't about to stop moving away from this wild-eyed predator.

 

There was a distinctive outburst of profanity, then the sound of hastened footsteps. In a moment, Remus felt a solid presence against his back, as Mr. Bad-Ass apparently decided that being split up was not working. 

"I don't know what you lot want, but you're not going to get it!" Mr. Bad-Ass snarled, still firing his guns. 

"Now, let's not be hasty," the new-comer said, holding up his hands in a gesture than might have been meant to be reassuring. "Sirius, Kingsley... back off now. We can discuss this like civilized people." 

"You're neither," Mr. Bad-Ass shot back, an unmistakable note of biting suspicion in his voice. 

It was not the time to let himself be distracted by the feel of a man's body against his back or to be aware of how firm the man's backside was, and Remus forced himself to stop thinking about Mr. Bad-Ass's ass and focus on the fact that he was in mortal peril. That the new-comer had stopped advancing on him should have been reassuring, but it wasn't, and Remus wished he'd managed to get a knife before Mr. Bad-Ass had hustled him out of the apartment. He felt naked and exposed, and he was aware of just how helpless he was despite having a strong fighter on his side.

"There's nothing to discuss," he said at last. "You've got the wrong guy. Whatever you want, I swear I don't have it."

 

The sound of gunfire stopped, and Remus heard a disbelieving grunt from Mr. Bad-Ass. "They left," Mr. Bad-Ass said. "For the moment." 

"Yes, they're gone. It isn't a trick." The new-comer smiled in a way that might have been friendly in other circumstances. "But you're wrong, Mr. Lupin. You do have something we want. We need your help." 

" _My_ help?" Remus gaped at him, dumbfounded. "Look, if you need a doctor, you're better off getting someone else. I'm just a year out of med school, and-"

"I do not need a doctor, Mr. Lupin," the new-comer interrupted smoothly. "I need a sample."

Remus felt his eyes widening, and he pressed back against Mr. Bad-ass. That did not sound good, and it was with great trepidation that he asked, "A sample of what?"

The new-comer's voice was mild, even pleasant as he replied, "Your blood" - and then he unleashed a guttural snarl and lunged at Remus, ripping Remus' collar and sinking his teeth into Remus' shoulder.

Remus screamed as he felt his flesh tearing, and he scrabbled to get away as they tumbled to the floor, but the man's hands were like iron bands around his forearms, pinning him down and holding him in place.

 

"NO!" Mr. Bad-Ass' voice cracked like a whip, and the weight of Remus' attacker was suddenly gone. Mr. Bad-Ass ripped the smaller man away and _threw_ him into the wall, his body impacting with a solid thud that knocked plaster off the walls and made the entire building shake. 

Then Mr. Bad-Ass was scooping Remus up in his arms as though he were weightless, his arms wrapped securely around him. They were moving quickly in the opposite direction of his attacker, and before Remus could protest, Mr. Bad-Ass began to run toward the window at the end of the hall. He didn't pause or hesitate for even a second before hurtling through it, the wind and rain lashing them as they fell toward the ground more than thirty feet below. To Remus' amazement, they didn't end up splattered on the street. Mr. Bad-Ass landed without even a grunt of effort, and once more, he began to run. 

"Holy _shit_! How did you do that?" Remus exclaimed, although he knew he wasn't in a good position to demand answers while he was being carried like a rag doll. Who were all these super-strong people, anyway? Were they all on steroids?

The rhythm of Mr. Bad-Ass's gait jounced Remus uncomfortably, almost painfully for his wounded shoulder, and he slung his good arm across Mr. Bad-Ass's shoulders, holding on tightly in an effort to ease the pressure on his other arm; before he could get settled in, however, he glanced back and spotted the mad man who'd bitten him - _bitten_ him! Who bit people like that, anyway? - loping along behind them as easily as if he were out for a morning stroll.

"We've got company," he warned, reflexively tightening his grip.

 

"Shit. This is _not_ my night," Mr. Bad-Ass muttered, scowling fiercely in a way that Remus might have found frightening if he hadn't saved Remus' life twice already. Then he was looking around, apparently finding something useful, for he switched directions suddenly. Remus felt himself being lowered to the ground, and a gun was pressed into his hand. 

"Aim for the head," Mr. Bad-Ass muttered near his ear. "And for fuck's sake, if you point it, don't hesitate, just shoot! Nothing is going to give you a second chance if you can't kill it first." 

Then Mr. Bad-Ass was heading back toward their pursuer, his second gun in his hand, apparently intent on protecting Remus at all costs. 

" _What_?" Remus stared at the gun in his hand and then at Mr. Bad-Ass's back - coat billowing dramatically, of course - at a loss. "I've never fired a gun before!" he called out, but either Mr. Bad-Ass didn't hear him or didn't care, because he didn't stop. Remus wavered, torn between turning tail to run away as far and fast as he could and following Mr. Bad-Ass to cover his back, and after a moment, he shook his head and muttered, "This is not a good idea," even as he began jogging to catch up, hoping he didn't shoot himself in the foot along the way.

 

In the distance - for Mr. Bad-Ass was already far ahead - Remus saw the two combatants meet. Mr. Bad-Ass' gun was blazing, then Biter did something unexpected. He made a weird motion with his right arm, and over a meter of steel descended, revealing a split blade with wicked looking barbs protruding from both sides. Mr. Bad-Ass didn't seem surprised, even though he dodged back, but Biter moved toward him with purpose and every appearance of skill. As Remus watched, the feral-eyed man pulled back his arm, and as Mr. Bad-Ass tried to whirl past him, Biter buried the entire length of steel into Mr. Bad-Ass' side, so deeply that Remus saw the blade emerge from the back, right through the billowing coat. 

No one could stand up to a wound like that, but somehow Mr. Bad-Ass did, snarling at Biter to boot. He clutched his opponent's hand, holding him in place as he brought up his gun, seeming to prepare to shoot his opponent at point-blank range. There was a crack of gunfire, and a sudden, metallic snap as Biter turned, the blade breaking off in Mr. Bad-Ass' body as Biter fled. 

There were apparently limits to even Mr. Bad-Ass' strength, however, for he didn't give chase. He staggered, then seemed to catch himself as he saw Remus. "Car. Alley," he said, jerking his head in the direction Remus had come from. "Hurry, before they come back." 

It was on the tip of Remus' tongue to say 'you're hurt', but he stopped himself just short of being stupid enough to state the obvious, and he hurried to meet Mr. Bad-Ass and tucked his good shoulder beneath Mr. Bad-Ass's arm to help him. "We should get you to the hospital," he said, alarmed but not repulsed by the slick of blood he felt on the back of Mr. Bad-Ass's coat. _This_ , far more than guns and fighting, he could deal with.

 

"No hospitals." Mr. Bad-Ass' deep voice was rough but implacable, although he did lean part of his weight on Remus. But he wasn't breathing heavily, which was odd, although there wasn't time to consider it much. Mr. Bad-Ass headed toward the alley, and there Remus saw a sleek black sports car, one that screamed fast and expensive. 

When they reached the car, Mr. Bad-Ass removed his arm from around Remus' shoulders, placing his hand on the roof of the car and turning so that Remus could see clearly where the blade was embedded deeply in what looked like form-fitting, black leather armor beneath the billowy coat. 

"I need you to push it the rest of the way through." Mr. Bad-Ass said the words in a detached fashion, as if they were discussing the weather. "I can't pull it back out because the barbs will do too much damage, and I can't reach far enough to push it through myself." 

"Uh..." Remus was nonplussed more by the man's apparent nonchalance in discussing the pushing vs. pulling of swords through his body as if it was a commonplace occurrence than he was by the thought of doing it. He'd dealt with stranger medical issues during his stint in the ER, but the patients weren't usually so calm about it. "Okay." He circled to stand behind Mr. Bad-Ass and examined the broken-off blade. "Do you want me to go slow and easy or just shove it?"

 

"Just do it," Mr. Bad-Ass said, turning so that he could grip the roof of the car with both hands. "And be quick, before we get any more unwelcome visitors." 

Remus nodded, even though the man couldn't see him, and he drew in a deep breath before tugging the sleeves of his jacket over his palms to protect himself against the edge of the blade. He didn't stop to ask 'ready?'; he stacked his hands on the protruding end of the blade and pushed hard and fast, shuddering at the wet sound of the sharp metal slicing through flesh.

 

A long, low hiss escaped Mr. Bad-Ass, the first indication he'd given that he could actually feel pain. There was a metallic clank as the blade fell to the ground, and then Mr. Bad-Ass turned. "Thank you," he said, his eyes meeting Remus' as he reached into a pocket and pulled out a set of keys. "Now you'll have to drive. It's not far. There's a place we can go to patch ourselves up."

Remus took the keys, a little surprised that Mr. Bad-Ass hadn't insisted on driving himself; he seemed the type to do so, and Remus was relieved to be spared that argument. "Okay, good. If you won't go to the hospital, I guess that'll have to do. I hope this place has some antibiotics. Human bites are nasty," he said, a sharp twinge in his shoulder reminding him he hadn't come through the ordeal unscathed. "We'll need a local anesthetic, something to stitch you up..." He was barely aware of speaking aloud as he ran through a mental checklist of things he'd need as he went to the driver's side and got in. He started the car and waited until Mr. Bad-Ass had gotten in too before turning to look at him. "You know who I am already. Considering I just shoved a sword through your torso, I think I've earned the right to know who _you_ are."

 

Mr. Bad-Ass turned to look at him, raising a dark brow. His skin looked deathly pale, although it was hard to tell if it was from blood loss or if he was washed-out from the reflected street lights. "Proceed for one mile south on this road, then take a right into the warehouse district. Three blocks beyond that will be a gate on the left. When you pull up and stop, press the third button above your head on the visor, and the gate will open." Mr. Bad-Ass settled back in his seat, and for a moment, Remus wondered if he would speak again. Then, in a voice so low it was almost inaudible, he finally answered. "My name is Severus." 

"Severus," Remus murmured, testing the name on his tongue and finding he liked it. He glanced sidelong at Severus, one side of his mouth quirking up. "Thanks. That's much easier than thinking of you as Mr. Billowy Coat Bad-Ass."

 

That actually earned a snort, another first - a sign of some sense of humor. "You may continue to think of me that way, if you like," Severus replied. "I do have an image to maintain." 

"Keeping staging rescues like that, and you'll maintain it just fine," Remus replied quietly as he backed the car out of the alley and headed off, following the directions Severus had given him.

 

"Hmph." Severus didn't seem to need to reply to that, and his eyes slid closed. There was silence for a few moments, and then Severus spoke again. "I don't make a habit of rescuing anyone. You're a special case. And before you ask why you're special, I know nothing more than you do. But I do know they can't be allowed to get their hands on you." 

"I'll save the questions for later," Remus said, glancing sidelong at Severus again and resting his wounded arm in his lap, steering with his good hand. "Just rest until we get... wherever it is we're going. Once neither of are bleeding any longer, though, all bets are off, and I've got a _lot_ of questions."

 

"Fine." Severus sighed, a sound that seemed odd coming from him. He was silent then, sitting in the seat with an utter stillness, not even his chest seeming to move.

The unnatural stillness was unsettling, especially in someone who'd been so grievously wounded, and Remus kept checking to make certain Severus hadn't died, although it was hard to tell. He kept driving until he reached the gates Severus had mentioned, and he reached up and fumbled for the button with his good hand, relieved when the gates swung open just as Severus had said they would.

"We're here," he said, reaching over to nudge Severus gently. "What now?"

 

Dark eyes opened, and Severus turned to look at him, much to his relief; he didn't want to deal with a dead body on top of everything else that had happened to him that night. "Drive straight ahead. There's a warehouse approximately seventy-five meters in front of us. Press the same button, and a door will open that will allow you to drive straight in." 

Remus did as he was instructed, and he breathed out a sigh of relief when they were safely inside the warehouse, away from prying eyes - and presumably away from strange men who possessed super strength and a penchant for biting people. 

"Just stay there, and I'll come around and open your door. You've lost a lot of blood already, and moving around will only make it worse," he said firmly as he opened his own door and got out of the car.

 

Severus opened his mouth as if to protest, but then he closed it again and gave a terse nod. Lights had come up as they entered, obviously on an automatic sensor, revealing a large, empty space. Along the wall, however, there was a surprising array of equipment - a whole small surgery, it looked like, and a large refrigerator. 

"There's an artificial blood substitute in the refrigerator," Severus said, his voice sounding weaker than it had been. 

"Okay, good. We need to get you hooked up to an IV," Remus said as he opened the car door and extended his good hand in a silent offer of assistance. His shoulder was throbbing, and it had bled profusely, but he hadn't suffered anywhere near the kind of damage Severus had, and the healer in him wanted to tend to his patient first before seeing to his own injuries. "I can give you a local anesthetic, but I'm worried about internal injuries. What if that thing pierced a vital organ? You might need surgery." He shook his head, starting to feel more than a little overwhelmed and worried. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital? If something goes wrong here... If you die..." He trailed off, wondering how the hell he'd gotten in so deeply over his head when all he'd been trying to do was go home and get some sleep.

 

"No IV. Bring me the bag," Severus said. He was so pale, he seemed almost bloodless, and given the amount of sticky dark liquid congealing on the leather seat of the car, it was a wonder Severus was still conscious at all. He stood, however, and looped his arm over Remus' shoulders again, letting Remus lead him to a gurney near the refrigerator. "Better make that two bags." 

"But..." Remus stared at Severus in confusion, but he closed his mouth with a snap and, after he'd helped Severus onto the gurney, he fetched two bags of the blood substitute, noting the name of the company that had manufactured it on the bag. "Diagon Industries. This is the good stuff."

 

"My... people... own it," Severus replied, not elaborating further. There was a gleam in his eyes that looked like hunger, and he took the bags, placing one in his lap and holding the second one up to his mouth with trembling hands. There was a gleam of elongated ivory at the corners of his mouth, and then Severus sank his teeth into the bag and began to gulp the contents down like a starving man. 

"What the _fuck_?" The expletive was out of Remus' mouth before he could think twice, and he took an involuntary step back as he stared at Severus with wide eyes. "What are you doing?"

 

There was no answer. Severus' eyes were closed as he drained the bag, then cast it aside. He gave the second one similar treatment, and as he did, a bit of color returned to his cheeks, replacing the unearthly pallor. When the second bag was empty, Severus tossed it aside as well and swiped the back of his hand over his lips as he finally met Remus' eyes. 

"You've stumbled into the middle of a war, Remus Lupin," Severus intoned, his voice once again deep and strong. "You might find it hard to believe, but it's the truth. Those things that were hunting you, the thing that _bit_ you, was a werewolf." Severus said the word with contempt, and his chin came up. "I am a vampire, and I hunt and kill the lycanthropes. It's a war that has raged for hundreds of years, and, unfortunately for you, you've been caught up in it. Your life is never going to be the same again." 

"What?" Remus staggered against the gurney, feeling light-headed, and he flung out one hand to brace himself. "No, you're joking," he murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. "Why would you say something like that? There are no such things as vampires and werewolves!"

 

Severus sighed, but this time, it was a sound of tried patience. He slipped one arm out of his long leather coat and unfastened the leather breastplate along his injured side. He pulled it away, and Remus could see it was still sticky with blood, but he could also see that what should have been a gaping wound was now a longish pink mark on Severus' skin. "Can a human do that?" he asked, his voice almost gentle. 

Remus reached out and touched the mark lightly with fingers that shook, scarcely able to believe the evidence of his own eyes. His gaze flicked up to Severus' face, searching for any sign for duplicity, wanting to believe this was a joke or a trick, but all he saw was deadly seriousness.

"No," he said faintly. "A human can't."

For a moment, he wondered what it meant that he was essentially trapped in a remote location with a vampire, and memories of every horror movie he'd ever seen flooded his mind, but he was a pragmatic man at heart, and he knew if he'd been in any real danger of becoming vampire chow, he would be dead already. Instead, Severus had drunk the blood substitute, which meant he was safe for now.

Scarcely had he calmed himself down about that when he was horrified anew as a thought struck him. "I was bitten by a werewolf," he said, his eyes wide and frightened as he stared at Severus. "Does that mean...?" He trailed off, unable to make himself finish the thought.

 

Something crossed Severus' face, something that might have been guilt. "Yes," he said, his smooth voice holding a hint of bitterness. "I'm sorry. It's my fault. I was trying to protect you, and I failed. I knew they were after you, but I thought they were trying to kill you; I didn't realize they wanted to turn you. We don't do that, not anymore. Or we're not supposed to except under certain controlled conditions; it is understood that mortals and the mortal world are off limits for hunting and feeding, and we are not to allow the war to spill over. Werewolves no longer have to change at the full moon and attack innocents, and any vampire who wants to be accepted within our society will not feed on humans. You... humans... outnumber us millions to one. It's too great of a risk, which is why you aren't _supposed_ to believe we exist. What the werewolves have done in the subway and with you is unheard of. That's why I was trying to find out what they were up to; whatever reason they want you must be damned important for them to risk breaking our laws this way." 

Remus reached up and touched his wounded shoulder, scarcely able to believe something as simple as a bite could change his entire world so completely. His life as he knew it would never be the same again. "Blue pill, blue pill, blue pill," he muttered, covering his face with his good hand for a moment. But this was no movie, and nothing could be changed by wishing it away. If what Severus said was true, then the damage was done, and no amount of panicking or freaking out would change it. Drawing in a deep, shuddering breath, he lowered his hand and faced Severus squarely. "What do I do?" he asked simply.

 

For a moment, Severus look surprised, and Remus fancied he saw something that was akin to respect in his dark gaze. "I don't know, not yet," he replied, his brows drawing together in a frown. "There are many strange and alarming things going on. What I need is counsel. I need to talk to someone whom I trust and get his advice. I could be jumping to the wrong conclusions, which might cause yet more problems." He looked at Remus again, and there was definitely regret on his face. He lifted a hand, as though he would touch Remus' cheek, but then he let it fall to his side again. "As for you, I'm afraid there is nothing that can be done. When the full moon rises in two days, you will change into a beast with no control over your thoughts or actions. Every vampire in the world will be your enemy, and from the way the werewolves have treated you so far, I'm not certain they will be your friends either." 

Remus listened quietly, his heart sinking with every word. Not only was he caught in the middle of a war and thrust into a world he'd never known existed and didn't want to be a part of, but neither side wanted him either. He was alone, far more isolated than he'd been in his entire life, and all he had was Severus...

... Who was a vampire and therefore his sworn enemy.

"Does that mean you're going to kill me now?" he asked, hoping the answer wasn't going to be 'yes'. If it was, there was little he could do; he was wounded and nowhere near as strong or fast as Severus even if he hadn't been injured, and he was in a remote, unfamiliar area where he didn't know his way around or where to go for help. He doubted he could even get reception on his cell phone in here. The best he could hope for was to meet his fate with dignity.

 

"No!" Severus was on his feet, gripping Remus' upper arms, something in his dark eyes burning. "I... am not your enemy," he continued, the words seeming pulled out of him against his will. "I've never said that about a werewolf, not in the six hundred years I've been hunting them, but not you. This isn't your fault. You didn't ask for this, and I would never hurt you. I cannot stop what's going to happen to you, but I'll protect you to the best of my ability." Severus' lips twisted in a horrible parody of a smile. "If you trust me. I haven't done a good job of keeping you safe so far." 

"If it weren't for you, I'd be dead or in captivity," Remus replied matter-of-factly, curling his fingers around Severus' arms in return and drawing strength from the feel of solid flesh beneath his palms. "I trust you."

 

For several long moments, Severus stared at him as though he couldn't believe what Remus had said. Then he pulled Remus against his body roughly, bent his head, and captured Remus' lips in a hard, demanding kiss. 

Shocked by the unexpected move, Remus froze for a moment - but only for a moment. With a soft moan, he wound his good arm around Severus' shoulders and pressed against him, parting his lips and yielding to the demand willingly. There was a small, detached part of his mind that was amused by how surreal his life had become in the space of a few hours; he was a werewolf kissing a vampire in the middle of a war zone, but he didn't care. After all the bizarre, frightening twists and turns the night had taken, this was a familiar, welcoming touchstone, and he'd been drawn to Severus from the moment their eyes had met down in the subway station. If the kiss was anything to go by, the attraction was mutual, which Remus hadn't dared dream could be possible, and it was one small ray of hope amid the chaos.

 

Severus kissed him with slow deliberation, exploring his mouth thoroughly, and then Severus pulled back slowly, although he didn't step back or push Remus away. "This is a very bad idea," he murmured. "Not that I care at this point, but you should know."

"I thought as much," Remus replied with a quiet chuckle. "What with the two of us being on opposite sides of a war and all." He gazed up at Severus, his expression open, not trying to hide or dissemble; there was no point in being secretive when his life was in Severus' hands. "I don't care either. Not about the war or about the fact that you ought to be my enemy. It's far too late for that."

 

When he uttered those words, Severus gave a heartfelt groan and leaned forward to kiss him again, swift and hard. Then Severus did release him and step away. 

"We should clean up your shoulder," he said. "Not because of infection, because it's also too late in that case, and you'll soon be immune to all mortal disease and bacteria anyway. But we need to get you cleaned up; it wouldn't do for you to walk into a mansion full of vampires smelling of blood and werewolf." 

Remus stared at him, taken aback. "A mansion full of vampires?" He blinked and shook his head. "Okay, putting aside the fact that there's a _mansion_ to begin with, are you sure it's a good idea to take _me_ there?" He glanced down at his blood-stained sweatshirt and back up at Severus, his expression rueful. "I'm not sure I can clean up well enough to walk into a houseful of vampires."

 

"This is a safe house. You will find everything you need, including clean clothes," Severus replied. "As far as whether it's a good idea... no, it's undoubtedly a bad one. But my only other option is to leave you here and trust that the werewolves won't find you, and if they did, that you might be able to defend yourself, which I highly doubt, given that you've never fired a gun in your life." A tiny twitch at the corner of Severus' lips might have been a smile. "You'll be under my protection, and I have some status in the coven. Not enough to get whatever I want, but enough to extend protection to you for a short time. Particularly if I tell them the werewolves are interested in you for some reason." 

Remus was relieved to learn he could change clothes as well as clean up, and he moved away from Severus at last, albeit reluctantly, and began gathering up the items he needed to clean and dress his wound. Fortunately, the werewolf had bitten his left shoulder, and he was right-handed, so he wouldn't have to fumble his way through the procedure.

"We don't have to admit I'm a werewolf, do we?" he asked, peeling off his jacket carefully and putting it aside. "Technically, I'm not yet, right? I haven't transformed, and I don't have super strength or super speed." He stripped off his sweatshirt slowly and with care, trying not to set off a fresh round of bleeding. "What they don't know what hurt me, right?" he added, giving Severus a guileless look.

 

"It would be foolish to tell them," Severus replied. His dark eyes were fixed intently on Remus' body, and he watched without any trace of self-consciousness. "They won't be able to tell what you are, not yet. After you transform for the first time, though, they'll be able to sense you, and you'll be able to sense them. Sense me." 

Under Severus' scrutiny, Remus was suddenly glad he hadn't let himself go; he'd worked out his stress through med school and the first year of his internship in the gym when he could, rather than with beer and take-away, and he was grateful for that healthy - and cosmetic - choice now.

"So I'll know when you're near?" he asked, his voice sounding throaty even to his own ears. "That could be... interesting."

 

He had the satisfaction of seeing Severus' eyes widen, then narrow in speculation. "Yes, you'll know when I'm near, just as I'll know when you are near," Severus replied. He stepped forward, reaching out with one hand and trailing his fingers down Remus' back in a delicate, feather-light touch. "Are you in much pain? We immortals tend to forget what pain is like for mortals. After a time, we become inured to it. But I believe there are pharmaceuticals here you could use, even though vampires and werewolves don't need them. This place was stocked for any contingency." 

Remus shivered pleasurably at the touch, fighting the urge to arch against Severus' hand. He ought not be thinking with his libido at a time like this, but focusing on something other than the fact that he was now a supernatural creature straight out of the late night horror movies was probably what was keeping him sane at the moment.

"It hurts, yes, but a couple of painkillers should do the trick," he replied as he threaded and sanitized a needle, and then he glanced at Severus. "Ever sewn any stitches?" he asked. "I can do it, but it's easier for someone with two hands rather than one."

 

"Not in skin," Severus replied, but he held out his hand for the needle. "Fortunately for you, vampires have excellent reflexes and steady hands. I should be competent enough." 

"You'll do fine, I'm sure," Remus replied soothingly, handing over the needle. He prepared and administered a low dose of local anesthetic and swabbed the area around the wound with a sterile cloth so Severus could see what he was doing without a lot of blood in the way. He took a seat on the gurney and nodded to indicate he was ready. "Go ahead," he said. "I won't feel a thing, and if I do, I promise not to scream too loudly," he added with a teasing smile.

 

Severus quirked a brow, but he made no comment, simply leaning closer to Remus and lifting his hand with the needle to Remus' shoulder. He moved quickly, but with an odd assurance and, as promised, steady hands, closing up the layers of skin and leaving only a delicate herringbone pattern of sutures on the skin. 

"Finished," Severus said quietly. As he lifted his head away, he brushed his nose along the side of Remus' neck, inhaling deeply before stepping back. "Will that do?" 

Instinctively, Remus tilted his head to one side, a little shiver rippling down his spine at the brush of Severus' nose and the knowledge that Severus was _scenting_ him. "Well done," he murmured, pleased with Severus' work. 

He had watched dispassionately, noting that the wound looked more like a dog bite; if a patient had come to him and claimed a wound like this had been inflicted by a human, he wouldn't have believed them. He slid off the gurney and immediately had to grab the edge to steady himself as he swayed, overcome by a wave of light-headedness.

_Blinding sun. The stench of burning flesh. The piercing screams of a dying woman._

"Whoa..." Remus rubbed his forehead, trying to clear his head. "Does becoming a werewolf give you hallucinations, too?"

 

Severus reached out and grasped Remus' upper arms, stepping closer to him and looking down into his eyes with a frown. "Not hallucinations," he said. "Memories. It happens to both vampires and werewolves. Blood and saliva can carry information in the transference, especially between an immortal and their sire. You're likely to have glimpses of the life of the beast who bit you." He smiled, but it was a cold smile. "It will help us hunt him down and kill him, especially if you can get a name." 

"No, no name," Remus replied, grasping Severus' arms in return to help steady himself. "Just... flashes." He frowned, trying to make sense of what he'd seen. "Someone died. I could hear her screaming, and there was a stink like burning meat. It was very bright." He glanced up at Severus uncertainly. "Is the myth about vampires and sunlight true?"

 

"That one isn't a myth," Severus replied, his voice ragged. "It burns us to death in a matter of moments. Just like..." He paused, his eyes wide. "Damn it! That's what they used to kill Goyle! It looked just the same, but..." He stopped, shaking his head. "I need to get back to the mansion. There's someone I need to see." 

Remus nodded, wondering if perhaps the werewolf who'd bitten him made a habit of burning vampires alive, but he didn't say as much aloud; Severus seemed to have more than enough incentive to kill the werewolf on sight as it was. 

"Let me clean up and change clothes, and then we can go," he said. "I'll be quick. Find a painkiller for me while I'm gone, will you?" He named a couple of options that wouldn't make him too drowsy or muddle-headed since he definitely needed to function and remain coherent a while longer.

 

"I take it you don't require assistance scrubbing your back?" Severus was incapable of looking innocent, but apparently he could appear wickedly amused. 

Remus froze in his tracks, startled by the offer, and he blinked at Severus before a slow, sultry smile curved his lips in response. "Well, if you're offering..." he drawled.

 

Severus moved closer and reached out to caress Remus' cheek. "Soon," he said, a world of promise in his voice. "Before the innocence is gone forever from your eyes." 

Remus leaned into the caress and nodded; he was a little disappointed, but he understood there were larger, more pressing issues to consider at the moment than their own mutual desires. He had no doubt it _was_ mutual, which erased any possible sting of rejection from Severus' words, and he craned up to kiss Severus lightly but lingering.

"I'll be quick," he said softly, stepping back with reluctance before heading off to shower and change.

And then face the vampires in their den.

~*~*~*~*~*~


	3. Chapter 3

While Remus showered, Severus withstood the temptation to join him by spending time cleaning up as well. The form-fitting body armor was useless now, but he had at least two more sets, thus he wasn't too upset about the loss. The long leather coat was something else, however; it had been a trophy captured from a lycanthrope elder whom Severus had hunted for the better part of a century before finally tracking him down and slaying him. The beast had had a penchant for fine clothing, and Severus had thought the coat suited him, and so he had taken it, and it had been his for nearly a decade now. There were other patches on it, and Severus resigned himself to adding yet another. 

After a few minutes, Remus emerged looking clean-shaven and wearing a clean pair of jeans and a navy blue sweater, but his own jacket and sneakers. Now they were both presentable, Severus led Remus to a different car, one not sticky with blood. It was another low, sleek sports car, the Death Eaters preferring speed and power to size. Severus drove with skill, swiftly leaving the city behind and heading into the winding hills toward the mansion. The earthen hills soon turned into stony mounds as they climbed higher, until at last they rounded a sharp curve and the mansion came into sight. 

With an instinct born of years, Severus could feel the sunrise approaching, and he pulled the car to the side of the road a short distance away from the gates. "I'm not going to take you in the front after all," he said, turning to look at Remus through the gloom. "It's close to dawn, which works in our favor. We'll go in through the back, and I'll do my best to keep you from being seen. That way, no one will insist you be locked up for the day, and I'll know you're safe from the lycanthrope hunting you."

Remus regarded him curiously. "What happens at sunrise? I assume werewolves aren't affected by the sun, just the full moon, but what about vampires? Do you fall into a torpor like in the movies?"

 

"Something like that." Severus hesitated, the reticence trained into him over the course of centuries difficult to ignore. But this was Remus, and even if he had been bitten, he wasn't one of _them_ , the monsters Severus hunted, and so Severus lifted his chin and told caution to go to hell. "We are vulnerable, yes, although very old vampires can manage to achieve some small bit of consciousness if the situation requires it. It is extremely taxing, however, and something to be avoided unless there is an emergency. And of course, direct sunlight will kill us; not that it will be a problem at the mansion. The windows are automatically shuttered before dawn every day, and the place is sealed tight for protection." 

"So you'll be safe, then. Good." Remus nodded as if satisfied, but the questioning look didn't fade. "How old are _you_?" he asked. "By vampire standards, I mean. Young, middle-aged? Not very old, I assume, but not new either."

 

Severus was surprised at the question. It had been a long time since he had conversed with a human in such a fashion, and he'd somehow forgotten the natural curiosity any of them would have about things Severus took for granted. Age, in his world, didn't matter so much as power, although the two usually went hand in hand. Unless, of course, you were a complete craven like Lucius, who was weak in ways that aroused nothing but Severus' contempt. 

"I'm not so young, although not anywhere near the oldest, either," he replied, feeling the weight of his years in a way he hadn't before. "I'm over six hundred years old."

Remus' eyes widened at that, and his jaw dropped slightly. "Six hundred years? Wow... Were you a nobleman? You look like the type who'd make a velvet waistcoat and lace cuffs sexy."

 

Severus' hands tightened on the steering wheel, and he turned his face away. "Hardly," he said, his voice wooden. He recognized that Remus was trying to compliment him, but the words had struck a nerve that was still sensitive even after centuries. "I was from a rural area. A peasant. Velvet and lace weren't something I could have hoped to aspire to." 

"Sorry." Remus offered a rueful smile and reached out to touch Severus' arm lightly. "I guess I've seen too many movies after all. If it's any consolation, you make leather look good in this century."

 

Severus turned and looked at Remus' fingers on his arm, a quiver of something foreign and somewhat alarming running through him. It was dangerous; Remus was dangerous, and not simply because he was going to transform into a creature of claws and teeth and brutality. 

"Thank you," he replied, then revved the engine. "We're running out of time. Duck down in the seat. I'm going to blow past the guards. They won't fire on me, but they would be too curious if they saw you." 

With that, he sent the car speeding up the road, rocks flying from beneath the wheels while Remus drew back his hand and scrunched down in the seat, practically curling up on the floor to make himself unobtrusive. He was, Severus thought, nothing if not obliging despite having been dropped down the rabbit hole.

 

The mansion used by the vampires as a home base was impressive enough on the outside with its Gothic spires and looming gargoyles, the huge stained glass windows shining like gems lit from within. There were even two tall towers, although it was a sure bet that no Rapunzel languished within them, ready to admit her secret lover by lowering her golden tresses to the ground. Not even in a fairytale could a woman hope to have hair _that_ long... nor would Prince Charming have stood a chance against the vicious dogs and armed guards who patrolled the grounds.

 

Inside, it was something else again. Modern conveniences such as large screen televisions and cell phones existed side-by-side with artifacts that were ancient almost beyond imagining. Suits of armor stood guard, flanking paintings of incalculable value, painted by masters who were in swaddling clothes when some of the residents had been hundreds of years beyond the grave. Severus had long ago learned to ignore these things, the old and the new equally unimportant to him, as he had no covetousness when it came to _things_. Power, survival, and killing were what mattered to him, and as long as Regulus kept him supplied with guns, ammunition, and body armor that would stand up to werewolves, Severus was content. 

Of course, he couldn't take Remus through the main part of the mansion, and the back entrance, through what had once been a set of greenhouses, was far less impressive. Old and fallen into disrepair, the glass which had once nourished plants in winter was broken and streaked with grime, and dead plants were choked with weeds in the crumbled remains of what had once been carefully tended beds. Vampires had little interest in horticulture, and it showed. 

They'd been able to bypass the guards, who knew better than to question one of the Death Eaters, and even more so in Severus' case. He pulled the car up close to the remains of a tumble-down wall, so that Remus could get out without being seen. 

"This way," he said, leading Remus along the cracked pavement toward a heavy wooden door. Even here amidst the ruins were signs of technology, in the form of a lighted keypad set into the stone, and when Severus keyed in a combination, the door opened silently on well-oiled hinges. 

"This part of the mansion isn't used often," Severus murmured, keeping his voice low as they moved quickly inward along a corridor. "But my suite isn't far." 

Remus trotted to keep up with Severus' long-legged gait, his head seeming to be on a swivel as he peered around. "You have your own suite?" he asked, his voice hushed but infused with awe nonetheless. 

Severus flashed him a quick look, a trifle amused at Remus' reaction. "Yes. I suspect no one would want to share quarters with me even if I were so inclined. This used to be a boarding school, so it's huge inside, and not all of our clan live here at all times." He paused at a junction with another corridor, motioning with one hand for Remus to stop. Tilting his head to one side, Severus listened intently for any small sound that would indicate the presence of another vampire, but after a moment, he relaxed and beckoned Remus to follow him as turned to the left.

"If you're always as scary and intense as you were in the subway, I can see why they'd leave you alone," Remus said as he followed along, still looking around with obvious interest. He glanced sidelong at Severus, the curious light back in his eyes. "You haven't been single for six hundred years, have you? I mean, I can see wanting your privacy, but surely you've been inclined once or twice."

 

Severus continued along the corridor in silence for a few moments. What could he say? How could he possibly describe to Remus what it meant to be a vampire, what it did to people, to feelings, to relationships? Did he even want to try? 

"Once." Severus said the word almost gruffly. "Another vampire. For a time."

"What happened?" Remus asked, and then he flashed a disarmingly appealing smile. "I'm going to keep asking nosy questions until you tell me to stop," he added, sounding cheerful about his nosiness. "I'm curious, of course, and I need to know as much about this new life I've been dropped into as possible, but I'm also curious about you."

 

"Hmph." Severus didn't know whether to be annoyed or flattered, and Remus' smile made his breath catch. Settling on a put-upon look, Severus put a finger to his lips. "Wait until we get to my room. And remember there are things about me you'd rather not know." 

Fortunately, they reached a back staircase, one that ascended directly to the corridor by Severus' suite. Severus paused, listening again, then cautiously began to ascend. He hoped that their luck held, and that the other vampires had already retired to their own suites. 

As it happened, they made it to Severus' door, and Severus reached into his pocket, pulling out an old fashioned key. There was a piece of paper taped to the door, a folded note, and Severus pulled it down as he put the key in the lock and pushed the door open. 

"After you," he said, lifting a brow at Remus as he gestured for him to enter. He was rather curious as to what Remus would think of his private quarters.

Remus looked around with obvious interest as he walked into the room, and he let out a long, low whistle, moving closer to one of the many shelves and trailed his fingertips lightly across the spines of some leather-bound volumes. "You've got a lot of books! Have you actually read all these?"

 

Severus shut the door, locked it behind them, and then put a bar across it. No one in the mansion knew he'd reinforced the door with steel that would stand up to even one of Regulus' weapons; Severus was far beyond caring where caution ended and paranoia took over, not with someone like Lucius left in charge while Voldemort slept. 

He didn't even have to look at the note he held to know it was from Lucius, demanding his presence. He crumpled it and tossed it away before turning to Remus. 

"Yes, I have," he replied, shrugging out of his leather jacket and tossing it over a chair. 

Glancing around his room, he tried to see it from Remus' perspective; heavy wooden furniture and dark green velvet curtains which matched the duvet on his huge bed, set off by shelves holding hundreds and hundreds of books. There were weapons, too, in cases on the walls, swords and daggers and rifles and revolvers, all the weaponry he'd used in a lifetime of hunting. It was a man's room, a man who was a scholar and a killer, and Severus thought there must be something rather wrong with Remus Lupin that he wasn't running for his life. 

Moving toward the bed, Severus unfastened the buckles at the sides of his body armor. "Six hundred years allows for a lot of time for reading," he remarked. "Particularly for someone as anti-social as I am." 

Remus had stopped to study a case full of swords, but he glanced over his shoulder when Severus spoke, and then he went to stand in front of Severus. "Here, let me help," he said, batting away Severus' hands and tackling the stiff buckles himself. "This room reveals two sides of you." He glanced up at Severus with a half-curious, half-knowing look. "Anyway, we're alone now, so back to my questions. What happened with you and this other vampire? Don't tell me it was some sort of tragic vampire Romeo and Juliet situation where he got staked by an angry mob of pitch-fork toting villagers, and you're antisocial now because you're still nursing a broken heart."

 

Severus scowled. He would have knocked Remus' hands away and given an angry retort, but the approach of dawn was rapidly draining his strength. Or at least, that was what he told himself when all he could manage was a grumble. 

"Hardly," he replied, holding his arms out so that Remus could undo the buckles, since he was so bloody determined to be helpful, even though it couldn't lead to anything, damn it. "He's probably crawling into his own bed about now, on the other side of the mansion, snuggling up to his biggest gun and whispering sweet nothings to it."

"Really?" Remus was visibly surprised by that, and he glanced up at Severus briefly as he loosened the body armor, his fingers gentle, his touch almost like a caress. "Well, that's a relief. Why did you break up, then?"

 

"It wasn't a break up," Severus replied, shivering slightly under the brush of Remus' fingers. He grasped the armor by the shoulders and lifted it off over his head, leaving him bare-chested. He looked at Remus and shrugged. "It was convenient, for a time. We're both in the same occupation, so to speak, and he's very attractive. But..." His voice trailed off, and he took Remus' hand suddenly, pressing it against his cheek. "Feel that? I'm cold to you, aren't I? But you are warm. I can feel it radiating from you just standing there. Hear your heart beating, the sound of you breathing. It is the nature of that which is cold to crave the warmth. Something equally cold can't truly be satisfying."

Remus stroked Severus' cheek with his thumb, meeting Severus' gaze steadily. "Yes, you feel cold," he said quietly. "But I _am_ warm, and I'll give you my warmth if you want it."

 

An invitation like that was irresistible, and Severus hadn't the strength to resist it even if he'd wanted to. He stepped closer, wrapping his arm around Remus and pulling Remus hard against his body, relishing the warmth and closeness, wishing that dawn were farther away. Bending his head, he kissed Remus, hard and deep, with an urgency driven by the approaching sun. He heard Remus' moan as Remus parted his lips and yielded to the demanding kiss, and he felt Remus' free arm slide around him, felt Remus' warm hand caressing his bare back as Remus pressed against him, obviously eager and willing. Severus wanted, more than anything, to take what Remus was offering. He could feel desire building, battling with the sluggishness that was starting to infuse his body. He pulled back from the kiss, even as he arched against Remus' hand, hissing in pleasure. 

"You have rotten timing, Lupin," he murmured, tightening his arms around Remus, in part to help keep himself upright. He groaned, then staggered. "It's almost dawn." 

"I know." Remus smiled ruefully and wrapped his other arm around Severus to support him. "Lie down, then, and rest. You need your beauty sleep," he said with an archly teasing note in his voice. "I could use some rest myself after everything that's happened."

 

Severus gave Remus A Look, even though he was surprised and a bit amused by the teasing, something he hadn't experienced in more years than he could count. People simply did not tease Severus Snape. He moved to the side of the bed, sinking down on the mattress so that he could remove his heavy boots and thick socks, letting them drop to the floor, knowing he didn't have enough time to straighten up as he normally would have. Then he stood again, unfastening the button and zipper at the top of his leather pants, skimming them down and off his hips, leaving him bare. He turned back the duvet and crawled into the bed, already feeling languor suffusing his limbs. 

Sinking down on the pillows, he forced his eyes open, knowing that, outside, the sun was about to cross the horizon. "Don't get into any trouble," he murmured in as stern a voice as he could manage, then his eyes closed as a new day dawned. It never occurred to him to wonder why he would trust a pre-werewolf with his vulnerable, sleeping body, something he would have considered inconceivable; he simply did, and if vampires could have dreamed, he would no doubt have had nightmares about the reason why.

* * *

Remus didn't bother to hide the fact that he was watching Severus undress; he was a little surprised by Severus' apparent lack of modesty, but perhaps it was a vampire thing. Or perhaps Severus knew he had no reason to be modest. With a body like his - all lean, hard muscle - Severus was entitled to flaunt a little. Desire faded into curiosity, however, as Remus watched Severus fall asleep, although from Remus' perspective, it was more like a coma, perhaps even closer to death. Severus' breathing was barely discernible, and when Remus felt Severus' wrist for a pulse, he found it was slow, dangerously slow for a human.

It was a sharp reminder that his life had been turned upside-down, and as much as he wanted to wake up and discover it had all be a dream, he knew that wasn't going to happen.

Sighing softly, he turned away from the bed. Perversely, his body had gone from utter exhaustion to wide awake despite the fact that he'd been up all night after pulling a long shift at the hospital. By all rights, he ought to be comatose by now, but he'd passed through his fatigue into the "too tired to sleep" state, and he knew it would be an exercise in futility to lie down beside Severus and try to get some sleep himself at the moment.

Instead, he took a turn around the room, examining the books and the displays of weapons and wondering about the man who lived here. Now that things had stopped happening to him long enough for him to think, he realized he might have made a mistake in trusting Severus so quickly. The man was a _vampire_ , after all, and vampires were supposedly at war with werewolves. But somehow, this didn't feel like a trap or a trick, especially not when Severus was the vulnerable one at the moment. It would be a simple matter for Remus to use any one of the dozens of weapons in this room alone to kill him, and yet Severus had left him here, alone and unrestrained, while Severus slept. No, he had good reason to trust Severus, above and beyond the powerful chemistry between them: Severus had saved his life and had tried to protect him from the werewolves pursuing him.

And that was another mystery. Why were they still chasing him? They'd managed to infect him and make him one of them, so what more could they want from him? What had Biter meant about needing his blood?

Two days. Less than that now before he turned. It still didn't seem real, and he shied away from thinking about the transformation and what it might entail. He knew what had happened to him on an intellectual level, but he still didn't _feel_ the truth of it yet, and he wasn't at all certain he wanted to.

He prowled around restlessly for a few minutes, too alone with his own thoughts for his liking, and he stopped by the door. Severus had admonished him not to get into any trouble, but he hadn't said Remus couldn't leave the room. What was the harm, especially if all the other vampires were asleep for the day as well? If they were anything like Severus, he could lead a bagpipe band up and down the halls, and they wouldn't stir.

It took some effort to lift the bar and unlock the door quietly; even as deeply out of it as Severus seemed to be, Remus didn't want to take any chances on waking him up and having to deal with a cranky, sleep-deprived vampire. But in a matter of minutes, he was exploring the rest of the house, able to take his time and look around properly now that he wasn't being hustled along in a hurry.

He could have spent hours just looking at all the antiques alone, and he couldn't help but wonder if some of the residents had bought the items when they were brand new. If Severus wasn't old at six hundred, Remus wondered exactly how old one had to be to qualify as an elder vampire.

At first, he was careful and stayed in the corridors, but once he realized he really was the only one stirring in the entire house, he grew bolder, and his explorations led him to one of the biggest libraries he'd ever seen in a private residence. It would have put some public libraries to shame, he thought, as he boggled at the sheer number of books crammed into floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that lined every inch of wall space in the entire room. Some appeared new, or relatively new at least, but others were obviously antiques. There were even climate-controlled cases for some of the older volumes that Remus could easily imagine might crumble under the touch of a hand, human or vampire.

Tucked away in one corner of the room was a heavy, ornately carved mahogany stand on which rested an open book; the book itself appeared old, but it didn't seem to be in any danger of disintegrating if touched, and it stood open to a page with an illustration that caught Remus' eye. As he moved closer, he could see it was a depiction of a battle, the illustration reminiscent of a woodcut, but instead of knights and dragons, this battle pitted sharp-fanged vampires against furry humanoids. A caption beneath the illustration read, _Lucius the bold defeats the were-beast, James._

Remus frowned as he studied the illustration, something about it niggling the back of his mind, something familiar, although he couldn't put his finger on what it was. The text on the opposite page read like the sort of dry account one might find in any historical textbook, and Remus was vaguely disappointed to find vampire chronicles were just as dull as most human chronicles, but he skimmed the account of the battle anyway, which he gathered from context had something to do with the feud between vampires and werewolves that Severus had mentioned.

He turned the page to read the rest of the account, but he reared back in shock when he saw the accompanying illustration. The caption said it was a depiction of the tattoo James had worn and which Lucius had skinned off to bring as proof of James' death to someone named Voldemort, but Remus had seen that design before, only it hadn't been a tattoo. It had been on a necklace around the neck of the werewolf who'd bitten him.

He turned the page back and took a closer look at the woodcut, and suddenly he realized why he'd felt it looked familiar. The werewolf depicted in the illustration looked a lot like the one who'd bitten him, and he had the sudden, wild thought that they might be the same. But surely that was impossible. Lucius, whoever he was, claimed to have killed James in battle centuries ago. A descendant, perhaps?

He rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on as exhaustion began to catch up with him at last, and he left the library and made his way back to Severus' room, taking care to lock and bar the door behind him. He didn't want another mystery to solve; he had enough of those already, and the events of the night were catching up with him at last.

Yawning, he kicked off his shoes, stripped down to his underpants, and climbed into bed with Severus. Perhaps it wasn't safe to put his faith in a vampire, but right now, Severus was literally all he had, and he could no more deny his attraction to Severus than he could deny his need to breathe.

He scooted over and nestled against Severus, feeling Severus' cool skin slowly start to warm up as he pressed close and shared his body heat as he'd offered to do earlier. He flung one arm across Severus and pillowed his head on Severus' shoulder before heaving a weary sigh and closing his eyes. He would tell Severus what he'd learned when they both woke up, but for now, sleep beckoned, and Remus answered gladly.


	4. Chapter 4

The sun outside the mansion set, and Severus opened his eyes, immediately tensing as his instincts warned him that something was different.

Waking, for a vampire, was not unlike waking for a human, with the transition between unconsciousness and consciousness often resulting in a few moments of confusion as the mind reoriented itself. Therefore, the first impressions struck him before he could summon the thought needed to turn his head: warmth and weight against his side and pressing on his shoulder, and a band of heat across his chest. A moment of pure defensive reaction passed as memory and realization began to coalesce, and Severus looked to confirm what he already suspected. Remus Lupin was _cuddling_ him. 

Severus hadn't been cuddled in decades, and even then, it hadn't been like this. Remus' warmth was an almost overwhelming pleasure all on its own, and Severus couldn't remember ever waking to such a feeling during his lengthy life. It was irresistible and dangerous, this combination of comfort and desire and a dawning need he'd not felt in far too long. His body stirred as he deliberately breathed in Remus' scent, one he already knew too well and had begun to crave as he craved the blood which nourished him. Part of his mind - the cautious, sometimes paranoid part - was screaming at him to get as far away from this situation as possible, warning him of danger in allowing himself to become involved on a deeper level than he was already. Remus was going to transform into a creature Severus hated and hunted, and the situation reeked of looming disaster. He knew all this on an intellectual level, and yet his instincts were urging him toward a far different resolution, and Severus was a creature who had learned to live by his instincts. 

A single swift, graceful motion extracted him from the embrace, but only so he could straddle Remus' thighs and place his hands on Remus' chest, caressing his thumbs over Remus' nipples and bending down to nibble at Remus' neck, although he was careful to give his attention to the side opposite where the werewolf had savaged Remus' shoulder. 

Remus stirred beneath him, his body responding before he even opened his eyes as he arched his back and turned his head to offer Severus better access to his throat. With a sleepy sigh, he peeked at Severus through his lashes and wound his arms languorously around Severus' shoulders.

"I haven't ever been woken up quite so pleasantly before," he murmured, his voice husky from sleep, and he gave Severus a drowsy smile.

 

"Nor I... or at least not in the last hundred years or so," Severus replied, then ran his tongue up the long, warm column of Remus' throat. The taste was intoxicating, and Severus felt his fangs extending. He paused for several long moments, forcing down the desire to bite, even though what he wanted wasn't to kill or feed, but to turn. That was impossible, of course, and he felt a sudden blaze of pure fury at the damned beast who had bitten Remus and made him a lycanthrope, when Severus could have done it and made him a vampire instead. 

He pulled his attention away from what he couldn't have and focused on what he _could_ have, and the thought of Remus willingly joining with him, even knowing what Severus was and what danger Remus was in, was arousing all by itself. He focused on that as he began to kiss his way along Remus' jaw, before claiming Remus' lips, slipping his tongue between them insistently, demanding the response he desired. 

Remus moaned and tightened his arms around Severus' shoulders as he parted his lips and surrendered willingly, arching up as if seeking more contact; he seemed to be holding back nothing, giving Severus whatever he wanted. And what Severus wanted was everything; all that Remus had and more. It wasn't unlike the hunger for blood, this hunger for Remus, for his touch and his taste and his scent. Severus wanted to make him moan and writhe, to watch as Remus was overcome with lust. 

He began to pinch and tug at Remus' nipples as he plundered Remus' mouth, devouring him as though he would steal Remus' very breath. Rocking his hips forward, he let Remus feel how aroused he was, the inadequate stimulation still making him groan into Remus' mouth. It had been such a long time, but he thought being with Remus would more than make up for the endless years of celibacy. Moaning into the kiss, Remus smoothed his hands down the length of Severus' back and returned the kiss with a passion that seemed to match Severus' own; the ferocity didn't seem to frighten Remus, but rather to inflame him, and he didn't shrink away or try to pull back no matter how much Severus demanded.

 

Lifting away from the kiss at last, Severus stared down at Remus, his eyes glittering with an inhuman hunger. He brushed his hands over Remus' chest, scraping his nails against the firm skin and giving a hiss of satisfaction at the sight of the skin turning pink. Remus was flushed, his eyes wide and holding no hesitation, only desire. He was perhaps the most gorgeous thing Severus had ever seen, and he felt an undeniable rush of possessiveness. Remus was _his_ , no matter what happened to them, no matter that they were bred to be enemies. Severus didn't care about that, didn't care about anything except the need to possess and claim Remus, to leave his mark on Remus however he could so that no one could mistake that it was Severus and Severus alone who owned Remus' soul. 

"I am going to make you scream," he purred, lowering his body to slide against Remus, relishing the sensation. "But in a good way... a very good way."

"Yes..." Remus' response was mostly a moan as he clutched Severus' shoulders and shuddered beneath Severus, his own arousal evident. "Yes, please... please, make me scream. I want that. I want _you_."

 

"Yes." Severus said the word fiercely, overcome with the need to do exactly that. He snaked out one long arm, opening the bedside table and pulling out a tube of lubricant that he used for his own occasional, solitary use. He dropped it on the mattress, then began to kiss and nuzzle his way down Remus' body, exploring, tasting, teasing. He would have liked to go slowly, to take his time and reduce Remus to a mass of quivering need, but it had been too long, and his own need was too great. He felt almost as he had when he'd been alive, a young man with his first lover, eager and desperate and ready to shatter from the slightest touch. 

Severus continued until he was far enough down to rip off Remus' underpants, vampiric strength shredding the fabric like it was tissue paper. Then he reached for the lubricant, squeezing out a generous amount before lifting up so that he could watch Remus with avid eyes as he brushed a finger against Remus teasingly, before slowly and carefully easing it within. 

Groaning, Remus bent his knees and let them fall open wide, and he lifted his hips, rocking restlessly. "More," he demanded, gazing up at Severus with need burning in his eyes. "You don't have to be gentle with me. I've done this before, and I want you too much to go slowly."

 

"You'll get everything you want," Severus promised in a rough voice. The sensation of Remus' warmth and his own anticipation of taking was threatening his control. His fangs slipped free again, and he didn't even try to withdraw them, the feral side of his nature too close to the surface now to be restrained or denied. But he did need to prepare Remus properly; Remus might understand the demands of a human lover, but he'd never been with a vampire before. 

Adding another finger, Severus continued, although his movements were urgent, almost desperate. Finally satisfied, Severus squeezed out more of the gel, coating himself, before positioning himself between Remus' legs, grasping Remus' hips and lifting him slightly. "You're mine," he said fiercely, then claimed Remus' body in one hard, demanding thrust. 

Remus gave a sharp cry, but the sound was one of pleasure, not pain, and even the sight of Severus' fangs didn't seem to faze him, because he reached up to cup Severus' cheek in his palm and stared up at Severus as if committing his face to memory. "Yours," he whispered, his eyes guileless and trusting.

 

The way Remus looked at him was almost Severus' undoing. No one had ever looked at him that way; no one had ever wanted to claim him before, not as a man or as a vampire. His Lord had saved him, yes, and given him the gift of Undeath, but that had been different, a servant to a master. In this, he knew Remus was his equal, that Remus accepted him willingly, not out of pity or mercy, but simply because Remus wanted him. 

Holding Remus' gaze, Severus reached between them, wrapping his long, strong fingers around Remus' arousal, stroking him as he began to claim Remus with smooth, deep thrusts. He groaned, Remus' warmth seeming to envelope him, surround him, burn him with a heat more powerful than the sun, but Severus didn't care. If he were consumed in this, if he were to die in Remus' arms, he would be only too willing to go.

"Yes... _yes_ ," Remus groaned, rocking his hips to match Severus' rhythm, and he tossed his head on the pillow, his face flushed and his skin dappled with sweat. His pleas devolved into incoherent moans peppered with garbled profanity, and Severus could feel the tension coiling in Remus' body, making his muscles taut. A few strokes more, and Remus' back bowed off the bed, and an ecstatic shout escaped him as he shattered, coming completely undone beneath Severus.

 

If Severus had thought Remus beautiful before, Severus found that in the throes of passion, he was transcendent, a vision more alluring than anything Severus had seen in all of his long, long life. Remus _was_ life, vibrant and warm and quivering, breathing and sweating, his heart pounding, blood surging through his veins. He was everything that Severus was not, everything that Severus wanted, and with a hoarse shout, Severus pounded into Remus' body, as though he could imprint himself on every cell, make it so Remus never wanted anyone or anything but him. Then he shattered, an ecstasy beyond anything he remembered overwhelming him, and he threw back his head with a cry that was torn from his throat. 

Sated, drained, and completely overcome, Severus collapsed beside Remus and pulled Remus into his arms, entwining their limbs as he sought to keep as much contact as he could with Remus' warmth. "Perfect," he whispered, unable to find any other word to describe it, to describe Remus and how he felt himself at this moment.

Humming softly, Remus wound his arms around Severus and nestled close, a sated smile curving his lips. "It _was_ perfect," he murmured, nuzzling kisses along Severus' jaw.

 

Severus tilted his head back, tightening his arms around Remus, enjoying the kisses but enjoying Remus' attention even more. Yet reality was hovering close by, ready to come crashing back down on them. He felt a surge of protectiveness, a desire to lock Remus in the cellar of the mansion and keep him there where nothing could hurt him. 

He turned his head to look into Remus' eyes and cradled Remus' cheek in his palm. He wanted to drown in Remus' gaze, the warmth there as intense as that of Remus' body. "I would stop it, if I could," he said, his jaw hardening. "I would stop the pain you are going to experience. I would send you back to your safe life and not let any of this darkness touch you. Even me."

Remus leaned into the touch and rubbed his cheek against Severus' fingers. "Thank you," he murmured. "But it's too late for that. Besides, I like you touching me," he added, a glint of mischievousness appearing in his eyes. He fell silent for a moment and propped himself up on one elbow, regarding Severus somberly. "Is this it?" he asked, searching Severus' face intently. "After I transform, after I become a real werewolf, is it over between us?"

 

"No!" The denial was torn from Severus' lips, and he scowled fiercely before releasing a grumbling sigh. "It will be difficult," he said, although he held Remus tightly, as though denying the thought even to himself. "You won't be able to come here, and going to you will be dangerous. Things among the clan are very political. If my master knew I had taken a werewolf lover, I have no doubt he would try to kill us both despite how much he values me. His hatred of werewolves is too strong and deep-seated."

"I don't want to lose you," Remus said, tightening his arms around Severus in return. "But I don't want you to be in danger because of me, either. Isn't there anything we can do? Isn't there any chance of a cease-fire?"

 

Severus looked away. "The war has raged for over six hundred years, and the werewolves have become more desperate the closer we hunt them to extinction. My master won't rest until the last one has been eradicated. He swore it, and he has an entire elite force to carry out that oath. I'm one of them. He found me, you see. The werewolves came in the night, and they slaughtered my entire family. My mother, my aunts, my sister... I picked up an axe, and I was going to go after them, but then it was over. My master drove them off, and then he offered me a chance to join him, to take my vengeance on the abominations who had murdered my family." His voice was hollow, detached; he'd long since walled off the memories and the feelings, knowing it was more efficient to kill coldly than in a blaze of revenge. 

"I'm sorry." Remus cupped Severus' cheek again and leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'm so sorry," he murmured. "I understand why you hate them... us. You have good reason." He drew back, and Severus could see concern in his eyes. "Promise you won't hate me once it happens. I know it sounds crazy. We haven't even known each other a full day yet, but I feel..." He paused as if trying to choose his words. "I _feel_ for you. I feel like I've lost everything, but I found you. To me, it's a worthwhile trade-off, but I don't want to lose you too just because I'm one of the same creatures who murdered your family."

 

Severus hesitated. He could understand feelings like hatred and vengeance; they were familiar, even comfortable. But softer emotions... he was out of his depth there, although the things Remus was saying seemed to fill up an empty space inside of him, one he hadn't even known was hollow until Remus came along and poured his warmth into it. It was difficult to find the words to say in return. If Severus was accustomed to knowing fear, he would have almost been tempted to say he was afraid. 

"I told you I don't blame you for being a werewolf. It's my fault you were bitten," he said. "I won't hate you. I don't believe I could ever hate you, no matter what happened. But I don't know what is going to happen. We still don't know why the werewolves wanted you in the first place, and after tonight, we'll have to find somewhere else for you to hide. If only I could figure out what is going on! I can keep you safe from my clan, but I have no way of knowing what lengths the lycanthropes will go to in order to find you. They seem... desperate. Whatever they want you for, it must be big." 

Remus' expression changed abruptly, as if a thought had just occurred to him, and then it changed again, and he gave Severus a sheepish smile. "I hope you aren't angry with me, but I left your room last night. I couldn't get to sleep at first," he added, the words coming out quickly as if he wanted to explain before Severus could shout at him. "So I looked around a bit. I found the library, and there was this book. The one on the stand, you know? Am I right in assuming it's a history of the vampires?"

 

"You went out?" Severus' initial reaction was one of horror, and he sat up, raking a hand through his hair. "You weren't seen, I'm sure, but you didn't disturb anything, did you?" Then the rest of Remus' words sank in, and his eyes narrowed. "Yes, it is. It is the history we are allowed to know. Any other probing into the past is forbidden. Why do you ask?" 

Remus' eyebrows climbed, and he looked at Severus with obvious surprise. "That you're _allowed_ to know about?" he asked dubiously. Shaking his head, he answered Severus' question. "I saw an illustration in that book. Two illustrations, actually. That picture of some vampire... Lucien... Lu-something. Anyway, he was fighting a werewolf. On the next page, there was a picture of the werewolf's tattoo, and it looked exactly like a necklace the werewolf who bit me was wearing. There was kind of a resemblance between the picture and that werewolf, too. I don't know if that means anything, but I thought it was strange. Do they all wear necklaces like that, maybe as an homage to the one who was killed?"

 

"Lucius?" Severus looked at Remus, the surprise in his eyes quickly giving way to frowning concentration. "No, they don't all wear necklaces, or at least not of a particular type. That picture depicts what took place near the beginning of the war. Lucius, the vampire who is in charge of the clan while my master slumbers, killed James, who was the leader of the werewolves. Unfortunately it didn't end the war as my master had hoped, and we've been hunting down the lycanthropes ever since. Lucius was the only vampire to survive the battle; he brought back the tattoo, cut from James' arm, as proof that he'd killed him."

"It's the same design, I'm sure of it," Remus replied. "Perhaps it means the one who bit me has been designated the leader." He smiled wryly and shrugged. "It still doesn't explain why they're after me, but I thought it might be significant in some way. I doubt it's coincidental."

 

"So do I." Severus didn't believe in coincidences, especially not if it had something to do with Lucius. The wily vampire had a way of coming out on top, despite having no special skills other than a cunning tongue and what passed for charm. The thought that Lucius could have bested in single combat the creature who was supposedly the best werewolf warrior who had ever lived had never sat right with Severus. In the past, he'd wondered if Lucius had happened upon James' dead body through some stroke of luck and claimed the kill for his own, but what Remus had said raised enormous questions and possibilities, and it might even explain how the war had raged for another six hundred years. 

But Severus hadn't been there; he didn't _know_. He needed proof, but even more than that, he needed his Lord. 

"There are some things I have to do," he said, feeling a sense of urgency beginning to mount within him. Yet he couldn't stop himself from moving atop Remus again, pressing him down into the mattress to feel Remus' warmth along the whole of his body. "I do not know what will happen," he continued, his expression intense. "I have no way of knowing how this will turn out, but if what my instincts are telling me is true, it could be the end of the war... or the end of everything. But know this, Remus Lupin: I will do my best to protect you, to keep you alive through whatever occurs, and to survive it myself. I am not ready for this to end, whatever this is between us, and certainly not because I failed to keep you from harm. I have never had cause to believe in fate or destiny or any other of the rubbish people delude themselves with in order to justify their actions, but I know there are forces in play here larger than both of us. I have no idea if that will work for us or against us, but I don't care. I will not be a victim of circumstance, not ever again, and I'll not allow you to be, either. Whatever happens, I want the chance for both of us to choose what we desire and not be forced into accepting whatever path someone might have decreed for us. Do you understand me? You have to be certain what you want, because I cannot begin to fight this if you hesitate. This could be our last night, but I have to know you went into it having already made your choice." 

Remus wound his arms around Severus' shoulders again and clung to him tightly. "I choose you," he said, his voice quiet but full of conviction. "So much has been taken out of my hands during the last twenty-four hours, but I don't want to be a pawn in whatever game is being played here anymore. I'm not on the side of the werewolves or the vampires. I'm on _your_ side, and if I can't help you, I'll try not to be a hindrance, at least."

Bending his head, Severus kissed Remus again, hard and deep. No one had ever said anything like that to him before, and Remus was showing a level of trust and belief that Severus almost couldn't comprehend. He felt exalted and yet humbled, knowing Remus was placing not only his faith, but also his life in Severus' hands. At that moment, something in Severus that had lain dormant for hundreds of years was suddenly returned to life, and while falling for a man who would become a werewolf inside of a day and whom he'd known for even less time than that was probably the most foolish thing he could do, Severus couldn't help it. He wasn't even certain he wanted to try.

After several moments, he pulled back. "Good," he murmured. "For now, though, I do need to go. I need to see Regulus, our weapons expert, for a few minutes to tell him about something the werewolves used last night, and I need to find out what has been planned for the waking ceremony tomorrow night. If the werewolves are up to something, I have the awful feeling the two are linked."

The curious expression was back, but this time, Remus didn't voice whatever questions he had, and he merely nodded instead. "All right," he said, touching Severus' cheek briefly. "I'll clean up and get dressed while you're gone. That way, I'll be ready to go if we need to get out of here quickly."

"That would be a good idea," Severus said. Another hard kiss, and then he reluctantly disentangled himself, standing up and crossing to a dresser, not bother to cover himself. He reached into a drawer and yanked out a fresh pair of leather trousers. "I also want to have a look at that book. If it's linked to everything that's happening, I need to figure out how. And why."

Remus sat up with the sheets wrapped loosely around himself and watched Severus dress with admiration clear to read in his eyes. "I left it exactly as I found it," he said. "It should still be open to the page with the first illustration I saw."

"Good." Severus gave a sly smirk, pleased with Remus' regard. 

He'd not really thought about his appearance since things with Regulus had fizzled, and it was gratifying to know that someone as good looking as Remus seemed to find him attractive. After a brief detour to the bathroom for a quick wash, he returned to the bedroom, and he put on a little show as he donned the trousers, adjusting them and then smoothing his hands over his arse. He picked a pair of socks from another drawer, then returned to the bed to sit down and put them on, followed by his boots. 

"I probably don't have to say it, but I will anyway: don't leave the room while I'm gone, and bar the door after me." Severus fastened the clasps on the heavy boots and stood again. "You would probably be seen as an intruder and dealt with before I could do anything. No one should try to enter my rooms, but just in case something unusual happens, _hide_."

"I will," Remus replied, nodding his acquiescence. "Don't worry, I don't have a death wish, and I've seen enough horror movies to know better than to go poking around a vampire lair after dark. I won't do anything stupid and put either one of us at risk."

"A smart man with good taste. I'm either very lucky or dreaming," Severus drawled as he crossed to the closet. Inside were a few items of clothing and even more books and weapons. Severus removed another breastplate from a hanger, slipping into it and fastening the buckles with the ease of long practice, then shrugged into his leather coat. Fully attired, he moved to the door. "I'll be back as quickly as possible. I'm in no hurry to move you from here until it becomes necessary, but it's a good idea to be prepared to leave in haste, just in case. In the meantime, I suspect you could find something to read."

"I suspect I could," Remus said dryly as he leaned back against the pillows and stretched languidly, making Severus wonder if he was putting on a little show of his own. "Do what you have to do. I'll lock up behind you and stay right here, safe and sound. I'll be fine," he added, making a little shooing gesture with one hand.

It was so very, very tempting to go back to the bed, forget everything else, and lose himself in the haven of Remus' arms, but he really did need to find out what was happening. He gave Remus another long look, committing the sight of him to memory. Then he turned, opening the door and stepping out into the hall before he lost the will to go at all. Werewolf or no, Remus Lupin was addictive, and Severus had no desire to resist him.

* * *

The cellar of the mansion was a winding catacomb of storage rooms and private offices, most of which stood silent and unused for long periods of time. At the back, however, it opened into a large, cavernous space, and this was where Regulus Black, an expert in weaponry unrivaled by any other mortal or immortal being, had his own personal domain, a temple to all that dealt death and destruction.

Severus and the other Death Eaters spent considerable time under Regulus' command, learning combat both armed at unarmed under his tutelage. If there was a way to kill a werewolf, Regulus had either learned it from the inventor or had invented it himself, and for that reason, he had a venerable position in the clan and was regarded with true respect even by vampires grown jaded by the sight of too much death. Regulus alone among the Death Eaters was someone whom Severus regarded as a friend, and even if they were no longer lovers, Severus thought Regulus still held him in some esteem as well.

There were several Death Eaters in the combat room, most of them clustered toward the rear at the firing range, sending round after round of high-speed silver death toward targets at the back, honing their skills or learning new ones. Regulus himself, however, was at a work table, the pieces of what looked like a large caliber automatic spread out before him. Severus walked over, reaching into the pocket of his coat and pulling out a clip of ammunition that he'd found in the subway, one like those that had killed Goyle. He placed the clip on the table.

"Goyle is dead," he said without preamble. "These are what killed him. Any ideas?"

Regulus removed one of the bullets from the clip and held it up, examining it closely, and he let out a long, low whistle. "A _werewolf_ had this?" he asked, his voice laced with incredulity.

"Yes," Severus replied. "Several of them hit Goyle, and it was as though he was consumed from within, crumbling into ash in a matter of moments."

 

"I don't doubt it," Regulus said, peering at the bullet with a blend of intense concentration and fascination. "This is like encapsulated sunlight. One of these would be enough to do serious damage to any vampire, no matter how old. More than one would be an automatic death warrant. Somehow they've managed to create an ultraviolet bullet, but..." He frowned and shook his head, an uncharacteristic expression of bewilderment crossing his features. "It isn't as if the mutts have their own R & D department, so where could they have gotten these bullets?"

"I don't know." Severus frowned; he'd thought the bullets odd, but the fact that Regulus seemed puzzled and concerned set off alarm bells in his mind, further adding to his worry over the timing of everything. "Theft, perhaps? They can't afford to buy such high tech equipment, and they weren't being frugal in firing at us. It's worrisome. How could they even have found out about such weapons? It indicates they have more resources than we thought. Perhaps... perhaps their eventual extinction isn't the given fact we've been assuming it will be."

"After seeing these, I would have to agree," Regulus said, rolling the bullet back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. "Certainly, they might have stolen the bullets, but high-tech weaponry like this isn't available from a shop and certainly not in bulk. There's also the question of why humans would need to develop bullets like these. As far as I know, they don't." He put the bullet down on his work table, but from the glances he was giving it, it was clear the wheels in his head were turning. "I suspect these were designed for one specific purpose: killing us."

Severus' frown became a scowl. "For once, I'm annoyed at you for agreeing with me," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Something is going on, Regulus. The lycanthropes are planning something, but I don't know what it is. I don't have _proof_ , and I don't even know if I'll be able to find it, but... this could be bad. The ceremony is tomorrow night, and I don't like the timing on this. Not at all."

"And for once, I don't think you're being paranoid," Regulus said, his expression unusually grim. "I don't know what they could be planning, but I agree the timing is suspicious, and with the appearance of these little death-dealers added to the mix, I'm not willing to chalk anything up to coincidence." 

For a moment, Severus was silent, lost in thought. "I have a lead. I need to follow it up," he said slowly, not liking the thought of taking Remus out of the mansion, but he didn't have much choice. He couldn't leave Remus here alone; he didn't trust his fellow vampires any more than he trusted the werewolves. He gave Regulus a sudden, sharp look. "You're going to retrieve Bellatrix tomorrow night before the ceremony, right? Make sure you take extra guards and extra weapons. It's the full moon then, too. I don't know how the werewolves could know enough about the ceremony to threaten it, but if they've learned to construct these kind of bullets, I am not going to chance underestimating what else they might know."

"Neither am I." Regulus picked up the bullet and scrutinized it with the expression Severus recognized as signaling he was deep in thought. "I think I'll clear my slate and work on a new project," he said slowly. "If I can figure out how these are constructed, I may be able to give the mutts a surprise of their own." He glanced at Severus with a shrewd smile. "Check back with me at dawn. I might have a new toy for you." 

"Oh?" Severus lifted a brow, but then he nodded. If Regulus was inspired, Severus wasn't about to refuse him. If things were going to hit the fan, they needed every bit of genius Regulus possessed. "All right. I'll be back then." He nodded, then turned to go, but after a few steps, he stopped and turned back. "And Regulus... thank you. For everything." He couldn't explain all of it, but he did feel grateful to Regulus; for believing him, for trusting him, for having been there for him in the past and at this time as well. 

Regulus' eyebrows climbed at that, and he regarded Severus with obvious surprise. "You're welcome," he said at last, and then he peered at Severus as if studying him as closely as he'd studied the bullet. "Are you all right? You look different." 

"Do I?" Severus frowned, wondering what Regulus could mean. "I'm fine. Or as fine as I can be without knowing what the hell is going on."

Regulus made a noncommittal noise and continued to scrutinize Severus intently. "You look more than fine," he said, amusement creeping into his voice, and Severus wished this hadn't been one of the few times Regulus stopped paying attention to his precious "toys" enough to notice what was going on with the people around him. "I remember that look. So who was it? Don't tell me Lucius finally wore you down." 

"NO!" Severus was utterly repulsed by the mere thought, his features twisted with loathing. He scowled at Regulus. "You're about to make me forget I actually like you. I would _never_ have anything to do with Lucius, and if I did, I would expect you to realize I'd either lost my mind or that Lucius had drugged me, and kill me out of mercy."

Regulus laughed, a rare occurrence. "I'm glad to hear it," he said, and then he tilted his head, regarding Severus quizzically. "Am I wrong, though?"

It was on the tip of Severus' tongue to lie or at least to evade the question. He didn't have to answer, but somehow he _wanted_ to. Perhaps it was the relationship he and Regulus had had in the past, or maybe it was that speaking of it aloud to someone else would make it seem more real and less like a dream.

"No, you aren't wrong," he murmured gruffly, giving a slight shrug.

"Well, good for you." Regulus smiled, one of genuine pleasure and affection. "It's about time. As long as it isn't Lucius, I'm glad you've found some company at last."

Severus smiled slightly in return. "Thank you," he said again, his tone warmer. He knew Regulus meant it, and he appreciated the good thoughts, although he couldn't help but wonder if Regulus would seem so pleased if he knew Severus' lover was a werewolf-to-be; Regulus' hatred of lycanthropes rivaled that of Voldemort's. "I just hope that it can last more than a day. Unless we find out what is going on, I'm not certain it will. I'm not certain anything will."

"And there's the Severus I know so well." Regulus shook his head, appearing amused. "I hope whoever you've found isn't as paranoid and fatalistic as you are or there'll be no bearing the pair of you."

"Actually, he's not," Severus replied, unable to keep from giving snort of amusement. "He's insufferably cheerful and positive, even in the face of almost certain death. Rather like you, in fact, but without the obsession with muzzle velocities and firing trajectories."

"Well, nobody's perfect." Regulus' smiled turned into a smirk, and he quirked one eyebrow up as he regarded Severus speculatively. "Rather like me, eh? I could make something of that, if I wanted to. I'll let you off the hook this time, though." He reached for a pair of safety goggles and put them on, and then he picked up the bullet again. "But only because I've got a new toy to play with, and I'm eager to get started." 

"Don't make too much of it," Severus retorted, although there wasn't any heat in it. "As it is, he seems to prefer me to a new toy, so that's one mark in his favor." He sobered again. "I hope those rounds are the worst thing the werewolves have waiting for us. If they have even more nasty weapons up their sleeves, we could be in for a bad time."

Regulus' expression turned feral, and when he smiled this time, Severus caught a flash of his fangs. "Don't worry. I'll make sure you've got plenty of nasties of your own. I've been wanting a new challenge, and a rumble with the mutts will give me the perfect opportunity to do some product testing." He slipped the bullet into his pocket and grabbed a pair of thick gloves before turning away. "Dawn. Don't forget," he added, glancing over his shoulder. "I'll make sure we give as good as we get if they try to sabotage the awakening. Better, even."

"I would expect nothing less from you," Severus replied, giving Regulus a grim smile of his own. "Dawn, then." 

With that, he turned away, heading back out of the cellar, lost in thought. He did feel better about their chances; Regulus was a formidable opponent, and Severus was glad they were on the same side. For now, at least.

* * *

"There you are."

Severus froze, recognizing the voice at once, and his defensive responses engaged automatically, forcing him to resist the urge to draw a weapon, turn, and fire at the speaker as he would have done if it had been a werewolf sneaking up behind him. Unfortunately, it was a man more dangerous than any lycanthrope, one Severus hated almost as much.

"Lucius," he said flatly, turning to face the blond vampire who had crept up behind him. Sneaking around was probably Lucius' most useful skill, likely because it was a good way to spy and an even better way to escape potential danger.

Lucius raised a brow, his pale silver eyes glittering with a mixture of lust and anger. Lucius desired Severus and hated himself for that desire, but Severus was also aware that politics were involved, as they always were with Lucius. Having Severus under his control would help Lucius solidify his place in the clan, but Severus had no intention of giving his loyalty to a cowardly worm. 

"You came back just before dawn. You know I wanted you here," Lucius replied, stepping closer to Severus in an obvious attempt to make Severus uncomfortable. But Severus was accustomed to Lucius' posturing, and he simply shrugged.

"There were pressing matters I needed to attend to," Severus replied, keeping his voice even because he knew Lucius hated it. 

"What is more pressing than the request of your Lord to have you attend him?" Lucius snapped, his eyes flashing. "You are insubordinate, Severus, and my patience is wearing thin."

"My Lord slumbers, as he has for a hundred years now," Severus drawled, crossing his arms over his chest. "You are barely worthy to sit in his seat. This is still Voldemort's house, if you'll remember, and why he left _you_ in charge is something I will never understand."

If Lucius had been human, he would have turned purple; as it was, his face contorted in fury. "How dare you, you insolent whelp! You should show more respect to your betters, or you'll soon find yourself staked out, awaiting the dawn!" Lucius visibly tried to reign in his temper, a tactic Severus was also knew well. Lucius had once been the scion of a wealthy, noble family, and he prided himself on being cultured and civilized. It was one reason why he both desired and despised Severus, the son of a peasant. "Regardless of why Voldemort left me in charge, he _did_ , and as a result, you owe me your fealty, and when I demand an explanation, you will give it. Otherwise you'll find yourself looked up in the cellar until Voldemort is awakened and can deal with you himself."

Severus had no fear that Lucius would kill him; Lucius knew better than to go that far. But the threat to have Severus locked away was both more credible and more dangerous, giving the timing. For the sake of Remus and of the information he had to glean, Severus grudgingly decided to acquiesce, at least to a small degree. 

"I was dealing with a situation, a werewolf attack in the subway. I believe they were following someone, and when they realized I had spotted them, they fired on me in public. It was as though they were going after someone and didn't want me to figure out who it was."

The information made Lucius scowl. "So that _was_ you. I should have known! Do you know how much influence I had to exert to make the media call that a 'gang related incident'?" he demanded. His expression grew cold and calculating. "You owe me for that, you know, especially since I'm covering up your rampant paranoia! You must have done something to set them off. Everyone knows you cannot tolerate being around them, and I forbid you to stir up any further trouble!"

"Be that as it may, they fired first," Severus said. There was something disturbing about Lucius' reaction to the information. Regulus hadn't thought Severus was being paranoid, and since Lucius was in charge of all aspects of the upcoming awakening ceremony, including security, he ought to be ordering Severus to investigate, not claiming he was paranoid! "Don't you find it odd that they are behaving so strangely, especially when the ceremony is tomorrow night? Perhaps they are up to something, something to do with the human they were after. Maybe they plan to stop the ceremony."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Lucius snapped, obviously irritated by Severus' prodding. "Everything for the ceremony is prepared, and things will proceed exactly as I wish!"

"Are you so certain?" Severus couldn't help poking at Lucius, trying to place a finger on what it was about Lucius' reaction that seemed wrong. "What if something did happen? Do you have extra guards? Shouldn't I be on watch or trying to find out why they were after this human, rather than dancing attendance on you?"

"ENOUGH!" Lucius was furious now, his cultured features twisted with the force of his anger. "You will be by my side as I have ordered! James has no interest in any human, so you are to forget about the matter! Return to your quarters, and I will send Narcissa to you. We have a meeting with the elders tonight in preparation for Bellatrix's arrival. You _will_ be with me, and you will be silent, or there will be a hundred years for you to think about how much defying me has cost!"

With that, Lucius whirled, his long, white-blond hair whipping around his face, and he stalked away, tapping the pretentious cane he insisted upon carrying on the marble floor, obviously expecting Severus to obey him. No doubt Lucius couldn't even conceive of Severus' defiance, despite the way Severus had resisted his sexual advances for almost a hundred years. That was one of Lucius' chief flaws, although it was but one of many; Lucius simply couldn't conceive of being disobeyed, not when clan custom assured him of the absolute fealty of all those beneath him and gave him the right to kill to enforce it.

But Severus had no intention of obeying any order Lucius gave him, not now and not ever. Not when Lucius had just given him the information he'd sought, providing the key which made the rest of the disturbing occurrences of the last day suddenly make sense. He still needed to find proof, but now Severus was quite certain of what he had to do. It might mean his death, but he would die for the right reasons, not for turning a blind eye to the madness around him.

Rather than heading toward his quarters, Severus turned back toward the cellar. _My Lord, I hope you will understand and forgive me for this, but I must do it. You are in danger, My Lord. The entire clan is in peril, and I need your guidance. There is a snake among us, and he is about to strike. I only hope you will believe me and act before it is too late_.

* * *

Remus took advantage of Severus' private bath, which had amenities he couldn't even dream of in his tiny flat, such as a massaging shower head. He turned up the water as hot as he could stand it and let it beat down on his sore muscles and soothe away the ache. Part of it came from his exertion in the subway and part of it came from his exertion in bed; he'd never had such vigorous sex before, but after last night, he wondered why he hadn't because that was without doubt the best sex he'd had in his life. Whether it was because of Severus' skill or because sex with a vampire was just that damned good, he didn't know or care; he was amazed that Severus didn't have a queue outside his bedroom door.

After his shower, he dressed in his clothes from the night before, for lack of any better option; he wasn't tall enough to fit into anything of Severus', and he didn't think tight leather was the best look for him anyway. After that, all he had left to do was wait for Severus to return. He amused himself by wandering around the room and looking at the display cases of weapons for a while, and then he studied the books, trying to get a sense of what Severus was like from the collection, but all it revealed was that Severus was eclectic in his tastes.

Eventually, Remus selected a first edition copy of _Return of the Native_ and climbed back onto the bed; he settled comfortably against the pillows and began to read, although his concentration wasn't what it should have been. He couldn't quite lose himself in the world of the novel because he kept listening for Severus' return and fighting a vague fear that someone who wasn't Severus would turn up instead.

It wasn't long afterward that he tensed as someone rapped on the door. Before he could grow too concerned, however, he heard what sounded like Severus' voice, and he recognized his name even though it was muffled by the thick wood. Awash in relief, Remus rolled off the bed and hurried to remove the bar and unlock the door, unable to keep from smiling up at Severus as he flung open the door and stood back to let Severus in.

"Welcome back," he said. "How did it go?"

Severus' dark eyes were intense, and the set of his jaw was hard, although his expression seemed to soften as his gaze moved to Remus' lips. "Good and bad," he said, stepping into the room and pushing the door shut behind him. "I believe I know part of what is going on. Now we need to prove it, and we have less than twenty-four hours to do so."

"What are we going to do, then?" Remus asked. He was apprehensive, both for himself and Severus, especially since he was entering the game so late and having to learn the rules as he went along, but he was determined to help if he could. "Do you know how you can prove... whatever it is you need to prove?"

"I do, but it's easier said than done," Severus replied, his expression becoming grim. He stepped forward and pulled Remus against him, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close. "I need to find the werewolf who bit you and bring him back here."

Remus didn't hesitate to slide his arms around Severus' neck and press close, despite the oddness of snuggling against someone wearing body armor. "So that picture really was significant? Who is he? The one who bit me, I mean. Not the one from the book."

"They _are_ the same," Severus began, but then he went still as a knock sounded at the door. He pulled back from Remus abruptly and pointed toward the bathroom. " _Hide_."

Without stopping to ask why, Remus darted toward the bathroom as Severus moved toward the door; it seemed fate had cast him as Severus' sidekick, and he wasn't going to be one of the annoying types who didn't know when to ask questions and when to do as instructed. He heard Severus make an irritated sound, and then he heard the door being opened.

"Narcissa," Severus said, the tone of his voice so devoid of emotion that it didn't sound natural. 

"Severus." The reply was uttered in a husky tone full of amusement, and Remus heard the door close again. "Lucius sent me, but you knew that already, didn't you? I'm supposed to help you dress for the party tonight, but it would be pointless. We both know you aren't going to attend, and neither is your little plaything hiding in the bathroom, right?"

Remus froze, his eyes growing wide and round, but he didn't leave the safety of the bathroom. He wasn't going to be foolish enough to blow his cover unnecessarily in case she was bluffing, and if she wasn't bluffing, he still didn't want to go out there and face her. Something about her voice gave him the shivers, and he knew whoever she was, she wasn't Severus' friend. Not even close.

"What is your game?" Severus asked, his voice harsh, and there was the sound of a body impacting against the door. "Why aren't you running off to tell Lucius whatever it is you think you know, rather than coming in here to taunt me?"

"Because if your interest lies elsewhere, that's good for me." Narcissa's reply was a bit strangled, as though there might be a long-fingered hand around her throat. "Lucius should be with me. He should choose me as his consort, not keep panting after you the way he's done for over a century. "

"You're welcome to him." Severus' voice was contemptuous. "I've never wanted him."

"Good. Why don't you have your little human come out, then? I'd like to see the creature who brought the mighty Severus Snape to his knees."

"Remus, you can come out," Severus said. "You might as well, since our guest already knows you're here."

Remus hesitated, but then he squared his shoulders and schooled his features into an expression of calm he didn't feel as he opened the door and walked back into the bedroom. After overhearing the conversation, he was disinclined to like either Narcissa or this Lucius fellow, but he had managed to do in less than twenty-four hours what Lucius hadn't been able to do in a hundred years, and that gave him the confidence to face Narcissa without giving her the satisfaction of seeing him nervous or cowed. Lifting his chin proudly, he moved to stand by Severus' side and slid his arm around Severus' waist, gazing evenly at Narcissa, a tall, blonde woman with a pointed chin and hard eyes. 

"Hello," he said, smiling pleasantly at her.

Severus slid his arm around Remus' shoulders, although Remus could tell from the tension in his body that the gesture was as much protective as it was affectionate. Narcissa, for her part, raised one eyebrow, seeming surprised.

"He's quite pretty," she said, her condescending tone making it clear she considered Remus little more than a pet. "Are you going to turn him?"

"No." Severus' voice was harsh. "Stay out of this, Narcissa, or you'll regret it. You have no idea what you're getting involved in."

"Oh, I think I know well enough," she replied, smiling coldly. "It doesn't matter, though. Shall I give Lucius your regrets for this evening? Thank goodness my gown is appropriate for a future consort."

Severus' arm tightened around Remus. "Tell him I left, for all I care. I do not dance to his tune."

Remus gave Severus a slight squeeze, wanting to offer nonverbal support, and he couldn't quite keep from smiling in satisfaction. He knew he had no business feeling jealous or possessive given all the obstacles he and Severus faced, but he would have happily handed Narcissa over to Lucius wrapped in a bow if it meant insuring Lucius kept his hands off Severus.

"And I follow Severus' lead," he said amiably. 

Narcissa's pale, hard eyes fixed on Remus. "Quite the devoted little lap dog, aren't you? Humans are so predictable, thirsting for the darkness, desiring it but fearing it, too." Her gaze returned to Severus, and her smile was nasty. "Enjoy him while he lasts... if he lasts."

"Get. Out." Severus bit off the words between clenched teeth, and Remus saw a glint as Severus' fangs descended below his lips. Severus' expression was stony, but there was loathing and contempt in his eyes.

"Fine." Narcissa's chin came out with in a haughty gesture, then she turned and left, and Severus moved to slam the bar down on the door.

"We have a problem. Another problem," Severus amended, moving toward a weapons case and opening it with what seemed to be barely suppressed violence. 

Remus squelched his irritation at being called a lapdog in favor of fetching his jacket and shrugging into it, since it appeared they were about to leave the mansion and begin their search for Biter, aka James. Narcissa was hardly one to hurl accusations along those lines anyway, given how she appeared to behave toward Lucius. 

"Let me guess: she's going to tattle to Lucius, which means you're going to be in trouble," he said dryly. 

"No doubt, but we have a few minutes, and I need to tell Lucius something anyway," Severus replied. He reached into the case and withdrew a nasty looking gun. He turned and crossed to Remus, his expression somber as he reached into his pocket and drew out a clip of ammunition that glowed with an odd luminescence ; he loaded it into the gun. "I know you are unfamiliar with guns, but with this, accuracy doesn't matter as long as you hit the target and keep on shooting." Reaching out, he caressed Remus' cheek with one hand, while deftly slipping the gun into the pocket of Remus' jacket with the other. "The target for that weapon is vampires, not werewolves. It is obvious the lycanthropes don't want to kill you, but I can say with certainty that won't apply to vampires. You are to defend yourself at all costs, do you understand?"

Remus reached up and pressed Severus' hand against his cheek. "I understand," he said softly. When he had chosen his career, he'd never thought he would have to take lives rather than save them, and the idea of killing anyone, even in self-defense, made him uneasy, but he wasn't ready to die yet either. He didn't know what choice he would make when it came right down to it - if he would even be able to pull the trigger - but maybe he would be lucky and not have to worry about it. His sense of humor asserted itself, and his lips quirked as he added, "For the record, I'm not nearly as much of a lapdog as Narcissa, and I'm not afraid of _you_." 

With a small growl, Severus caught Remus against him, bending his head and capturing Remus' lips in a brief, hard kiss. "You are no lapdog," he said roughly. "And you should probably be more afraid of me than of anyone else, since I've put you in a great deal of danger, and no doubt I will have to do it again. But we don't have much time, and you need to know there is treachery everywhere. You saw the book. Lucius told my Master that he killed James, but I am convinced James is still alive, and that he is the one who is after you. That means Lucius is in league with the werewolves somehow, which means there is definitely something afoot for the awakening ceremony tomorrow. Lucius is a physical coward, so I suspect he has others on his side. I cannot be certain whom I can trust, other than my Master. But my Master needs proof before he can act, so we must provide it, and the best proof of all is James himself."

"Agreed," Remus replied firmly. He had no idea what Lucius stood to gain by aligning with the werewolves, unless it was some sort of power play, and even as little as he knew about Lucius, that sounded plausible. "We have to find James and get him back here before the awakening ceremony before all hell breaks loose, right?" He drew in a deep breath, bracing himself for the adventures to come. "So - how do we find him? I don't happen to have some mystical werewolf bond that will make things easier and lead us both right to him, do I?"

Something like amusement lifted the corner of Severus' lips for a moment. "Unfortunately, no, but I don't think that will be necessary. I believe he is holed up somewhere in the subway tunnels, since I found indications of what might be a base down there. Time to storm the Bastille, if you're up for it."

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," Remus replied, relieved that Severus had an idea of where to start looking. He'd been worried that finding James would entail combing the entire city, and the old "needle in a haystack" adage had been lingering in the back of his mind. At least they could save some time by narrowing the search to a specific area. He paused, lost in thought for a moment, and then he regarded Severus speculatively. "Did you have a plan other than 'barge in and kill anything that moves'? Because I was thinking that if the werewolves aren't out to kill me, I could act as a decoy or bait. I don't know if they want me for anything now that they've gotten their blood sample, albeit the hard way, but if they do, I could draw them out somehow." 

Severus scowled. "I do not care for that idea," he said. "We don't know what they want you for, and if you are away from me, you might be captured. The werewolves aren't known for being cultured or kind, and they most certainly do kill their own, something which is anathema to vampires."

"Ah..." Remus gazed up at him, wide-eyed, for a moment. "Well, it was a thought," he said, smiling wryly and shrugging. "I thought perhaps being able to devise a cunning plan might make up for my total lack of experience with guns and hand-to-hand combat."

Before Severus could reply, there was a thunderous knock on the door, the pounding so hard that the entire structure seemed to shake. Severus held onto Remus tightly for a moment before releasing him. "Keep back," he murmured, and then he turned to lift the bar and open the door.

Almost before the bar was lifted, a tall, blond vampire shoved his way into the room, his face twisted with fury. He rounded on Severus, who was maneuvering to keep himself between Remus and the newcomer.

"What have you done, bringing a _human_ into _my_ house?" Flecks of spittle flew from the vampire's lips, and his fangs showed clearly. His fists were clenched, and for a moment, it appeared as if he might strike Severus.

"Last time I checked, this was still Voldemort's house," Severus said, his voice quiet and steady in comparison.

Remus edged to stand behind Severus, wanting to be out of reach of the other vampire. Severus didn't frighten him, but Lucius _did_. There was something about Lucius that set off all of Remus' warning bells, and he'd learned to listen to his instincts when it came to other people. Or in this case, other vampires. 

"Severus saved me from the werewolves," he said. As much as he didn't want to draw Lucius' attention to himself or risk being attacked, he hoped perhaps learning Severus had thwarted their ancient enemies would help assuage Lucius' wrath, if only a little.

Lucius' gaze turned to Remus, and his face, which might have been attractive, was so distorted by rage that he looked every inch the monster from a horror movie. "Do not speak, mortal!" he spat, his pale eyes burning. Then he turned his attention back to Severus, and beneath the anger, there was suddenly something else, something far more carnal.

"You will kill this human, then perhaps, _perhaps_ , I will allow you to remain for the awakening ceremony and not throw your miserable arse in the dungeons," Lucius continued, drawing himself up to his full height, which was still a bit shorter than Severus. "Otherwise _I_ will kill him, and you can rot underground for the next hundred years and think about your mistakes."

"We will see what Lord Voldemort has to say about that," Severus replied, a glint of triumph in his dark eyes. "Now that he's awake."

"What? _What_?" Lucius stepped back, a look akin to panic crossing his face. "What have you done?"

"I think it's a better question to ask what _you_ have done." Severus still sounded relaxed, but his stance changed subtly, his feet shifting and a tension coming to his shoulders as though he were readying himself for a fight. "That is why I awakened him. Whatever coup you are planning, you will not be allowed to get away with it."

Remus couldn't quite suppress a tiny squeak of alarm when Lucius threatened to kill him; he didn't believe Severus would follow Lucius' order to kill him, given the obvious contempt Severus felt for Lucius, but he was concerned about what might happen if Lucius called for back-up. He grew even more alarmed when Severus admitted to having awakened Voldemort; he was still learning, but from Lucius' obvious horror, he thought it was safe to assume Lucius might be driven to desperate measures if he felt cornered. Slowly, he slid his hand into his pocket and curled his fingers around the gun; if luck was with him, he might be able to draw and fire it at least once despite Lucius' enhanced speed and strength.

For several moments, it was unclear what Lucius might do, the stereotypical "fight or flight" instinct apparently holding as true for vampires as for humans. "You... you have _no_ idea what you have done," he said. 

With a snarl, he lunged at Remus, but Severus must have been anticipating such a reaction, for he was faster, a second ahead of Lucius, who moved with sudden, unearthly speed. Lucius' hands were curved into claws, his mouth open and his fangs gleaming; it was obvious to Remus what he intended to do, but before Remus could back up or turn to flee, Severus swept Remus up with one arm and headed toward the window at a dead run. Nor did Severus slow down, although he curved his free arm over Remus' head protectively as he turned one shoulder and impacted the glass, shattering it into millions of tiny, glittering fragments which caught the moonlight, spinning around them like ice as they hurtled toward the ground.

Remus clung to Severus as best he could, unable to keep from crying out as they burst through the window, and squeezed his eyes shut to avoid the sight of the ground rushing up to meet them as they fell. Despite the reckless exit from the mansion, he was glad to put some distance between himself and Lucius, and if he never saw that haughty face again, he wouldn't regret it. 

They landed, and Severus staggered, but he didn't fall. "Hold on," he said grimly, and then he began to run, obviously not willing to take any chances that Lucius wouldn't follow them. Dogs began to bark, and there were shouts in the distance, but Severus paid no attention. He rounded the side of the mansion, and suddenly they were back at the dilapidated greenhouses.

The car, fortunately, was just where they had left it, and Severus slowed just long enough to set Remus on his feet. "Get in," he said, sliding over the trunk of the car to the other side. 

Remus immediately yanked the passenger-side door open, jumped in, and slammed the door, locking it for good measure. He fastened his seat belt and glanced over at Severus, concerned that Severus had burned his bridges too soon. "Are you sure this Voldemort guy is going to be on your side and not Lucius'?" he asked.

Severus fastened his own seat belt, turned the key, and threw the car into reverse, the powerful engine roaring and grass flying from beneath the tires as they spun for purchase. He turned the wheel, spinning them into a tight one hundred eighty degree turn, then stomped on the accelerator as he slammed the car into drive. There were shouts and gunshots, but Severus didn't stop; instead he drove not toward the driveway, but across the expanse of lawn, heedless of the bushes and walkways they demolished along the way.

"If I have proof, then yes," Severus replied at last. They swerved past a low stone wall, then Severus gunned the engine and drove through a wooden gate, the impact causing the debris to shriek along the sides and top of the car. On Remus' side of the car was a sheer cliff, dropping off to the dark ocean some unimaginable distance below, but that didn't seem to faze Severus. "Voldemort trusts Lucius because Lucius killed James, no other reason. But my Lord trusts me as well, which is why I am highly placed in the Death Eaters, and he... he is fond of me. That only insures that he will listen to me if I bring him evidence, but the evidence itself is crucial. I've broken so many of our laws and traditions at this point that I'm not certain he won't order me imprisoned even if I _am_ right. Which I am."

"But if you're right - and I believe you are - then Lucius has broken laws and traditions too," Remus pointed out. "Not to mention, he's been lying for centuries." He paused, mulling over the facts he knew. If he could consider himself strong in anything, it was using logic to put pieces together, which was one reason why his mentors had encouraged him to become a diagnostician. "In fact, if the werewolves _are_ planning to disrupt the awakening somehow, then Lucius is partially to blame. He left their leader alive to plot and scheme, which resulted in James making his move _now_. Perhaps if Lucius is aligned with them, he wants the awakening disrupted for some reason." A thought occurred to him, and he turned to Severus with growing excitement. "What about solidifying his power base? Could disrupting the awakening benefit Lucius somehow?"

"What crimes Lucius has committed will not mitigate my own, and no doubt he has been planning this for a long time and has contingency plans in place." Severus sounded matter-of-fact, but not daunted. "Which is why I must find proof and do something unpredictable, something he _couldn't_ have planned for. Like waking Voldemort or going after James. You're right, though. Lucius is in league with James, I'm certain of it. When I saw Lucius earlier, I agitated him enough that he let it slip. He said James would have no need of a human. How could he know that unless he and James were in this together? But that doesn't explain why James bit you or why Lucius obviously knows nothing about it."

"There must be another layer to all of this," Remus mused. "James might have plans of his own that don't involve Lucius, but no, I can't imagine why my blood was necessary to him."

"Any plans the werewolves have can't be good." Severus gave a huff of annoyance as he twisted the wheel of the car. They had been traveling on a gravel path, but now they were on a proper paved road, and Severus increased their speed until they seemed to be flying past the surrounding scenery. "Neither can any scheme of L


	5. Chapter 5

The subway station still bore scars from the battle the day before, but apparently the mortal authorities had done what they could by way of investigation and had turned it back over to the throngs of commuters who flowed in and out of the trains in an unending stream. It all looked incredibly normal, even with the chipped tile and bullet holes in several of the pillars. There was little to indicate that a fierce battle between conflicting immortal forces had taken place there less than twenty-four hours previously.

Of course, Severus mused silently to himself, that was the way of the mortal world. It invariably turned a blind eye to that which it did not wish to see, which was convenient for the vampires and werewolves who skulked around its edges like nightmares hovering just out of sight. Even when the skulking turned into a blatant incursion, the mortals would find a way to rationalize it, to ignore anything that smacked of supernatural influence.

Fortunately, it wouldn't take another battle for the two of them to get to where they needed to go, but it would take reliance on another mortal truism: if someone looked like they knew where they were going, they must have a right to be there. Holding his head high, Severus strode with certainty straight for a door marked "Maintenance" near the back of the station, producing a set of keys and thumbing through them with every appearance of boredom. He selected one, then pretended to place it in the lock even as he twisted the doorknob with strength no human could hope to match, shattering the locking mechanism. 

Pushing the door open, he stepped inside, then gestured for Remus to follow him. A swift glance around showed him that no one was paying much attention, and even though their images would be on the security cameras, Severus didn't particularly care. It wasn't as though the mortals would be able to identify him, and they wouldn't believe what they found even if they could.

Behind him, Remus stuck close, not quite close enough to get in the way but not so far behind that Severus couldn't sense him easily, even feel the occasional lap of body heat radiating from him.

"Don't tell me, let me guess," he said in the tone that Severus was starting to recognize as heralding some kind of jest. "Werewolves masquerade as janitors."

Severus snorted. "They are more suited to making messes than cleaning them up," he replied, pulling the door shut behind them. They were in a storage area, with tools and hard hats hung on pegs around the wall, and rechargeable flashlights racked in holder above a work bench. There was another door at the other side, and Severus moved toward it, opening it to reveal a small platform where the maintenance workers could access either the tunnels or trains that stopped short of the main station.

"We need to go down to the tracks and cross to the other side," Severus said, then gestured to the flashlights. "You might need one of those, but keep it pointed downward." He quirked a brow. "I hope you aren't squeamish. The tunnels aren't exactly the most sanitary of places."

Remus gave him a look that could only be described as fondly amused as he snagged a flashlight. "I'm an intern. I've seen open head wounds and had to root around in ruptured intestines. A little mud and mold isn't going to make me lose my lunch," he said, thumbing the switch and turning the bright beam toward the floor as instructed.

"Sounds like my career - only I cause the wounds," Severus retorted, but there was no heat in it. "There will be mud and mold and other things. You do realize that not only are vampires and werewolves real, but other things are as well? Like giant alligators in the sewers and horrible creatures in the subway tunnels."

"Really?" Remus' eyes grew wide and round, and he sounded like a child who'd just seen the Tooth Fairy. "Are you serious?" His eyes narrowed as he gave Severus a dubious look. "Or are you just pulling my leg? I'm trying not to be gullible, but after everything that's happened in the last couple of days, I don't know what to believe anymore."

"'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,'" Severus quoted in a deep, resonant voice, quietly amused by Remus' innocent reaction. "You will have to be patient and see. I'd hate to spoil all the surprises." He moved toward the small platform, listening intently for a moment. "No trains. Follow me - and be careful of the third rail! After you transform for the first time, it probably won't do more than tickle you, but for the moment, you're still mostly mortal."

After a quick glance at Remus, Severus stepped off the platform, landing lightly on the gravel bed two meters below. On the platform, Remus hovered near the edge, obviously hesitant, but then he breathed deeply and jumped, landing beside Severus with only a slight stumble, and he eyed the dangerous rail as if it might somehow come alive and electrocute him deliberately.

Severus nodded with approval at Remus' jump. It might not seem like much to some people, but he was impressed with the way Remus was handling everything that had been thrown at him. Most humans would have crumbled or gone mad with from the horror, but not Remus; he'd risen to every challenge, not backed away from any obstacle, even facing Lucius in the vampire's own den. There was an inner core of quiet strength in Remus, and it drew Severus like a moth to flame.

"This way," he said, turning his attention back to the task at hand. He needed to keep his focus to find James and keep both himself and Remus from being captured in the process. He probably should have left Remus somewhere, but there wasn't anywhere he considered safe enough; at least this way, Severus could keep an eye on him and act directly to keep him from harm, rather than risk being distracted by worrying about his safety if they were separated.

The subway tunnel was dimly lit by utility lights every twenty meters. Severus didn't need the illumination, but it was barely sufficient for a human. Fortunately, they didn't need to go far in the main tunnel, and within minutes, Severus lowered his head and ducked into a low opening where a grate had been removed from the wall. Inside, it was much higher, and he straightened, glancing about warily, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up instinctively as he caught the rank, musky odor of the many werewolves who had passed this way.

Behind him, Remus made a noise of disgust, albeit a quiet one. "It smells like wet, unwashed dog in here," he whispered. 

"Werewolf." Severus said the word in a clipped tone, his nostrils flaring with distaste. "This has to be a main access point for them, and I followed the pair who attacked you through it last night." His tone was low enough that they wouldn't be heard, and he could feel himself tensing instinctively. Reaching into his jacket, he extracted one of his guns and clicked off the safety. He felt better immediately, and he turned with a grim smile. "Stay close. It's not far to where I think the werewolves are based. If we get separated, get out as fast as you can, and don't look back."

"Okay," Remus whispered, gratifying Severus when he acquiesced rather than argued. Severus could feel Remus move closer, not quite plastering himself against Severus' back but close. "Should I get out my gun too?" Remus asked. "I know you said it was for vampires, but I think I'd be better at firing a gun than I am at hand-to-hand combat."

"Use this," Severus replied, reaching into the other side of his long coat and pulling out his second gun. He turned and handed it to Remus, giving him a brief, hard smile. "That one has silver bullets, so for God's sake, don't shoot yourself in the foot."

Remus swallowed hard as he took the gun, and his answering smile revealed more bravado than certainty. "I'll certainly try not to," he replied. He examined the weapon curiously for a moment, and then he glanced back up at Severus. "Is the safety on or off? I know this isn't the time for Firearms 101, but I don't want to get my arm ripped off while I'm trying to fire a gun with the safety still on." 

Reaching out, Severus flipped the safety. "Now it's off," he said, then moved his hand up to touch Remus' cheek. "You're doing very well. Don't let it go to your head, but I spent the first week after being turned in shock, so you're doing better than I did. So just keep holding it together, and we'll get through this. Then I'll shag your brains out."

A wicked sparkle appeared in Remus' pale eyes, and a disconcertingly charming dimple winked in his left cheek as he flashed a quick grin at Severus. "I'll hold you to that," he replied. He took a deep breath, his expression growing somber. "I'm trying," he said in a softer voice. "If I've learned anything over the course of my life, it's that you have to deal with things as they are, not as you want them to be. If I had too much time to sit and think about it, I might go into shock too, but things have happened so quickly, and I'm just trying to keep up so I don't get trampled." 

"A sensible attitude. Hopefully that will help you get through." Severus gave an approving nod, and then he turned back to the matter at hand. 

Cocking his head to one side, he listened again, then began to creep forward, alert for any trip wires or pitfalls; he'd learned the hard way that just because there hadn't been any in place the day before didn't mean there weren't any present now. It seemed clear, however, and he moved more quickly, heading toward a junction barely visible ahead, where the tunnel formed a T with branches off to the left and the right. "We'll go right," he murmured, his voice pitched for Remus' ears alone. "Try to remember the turns if you can. Marking them is more dangerous than helpful, since if they realize what we're doing, they could alter things to lead us right into a trap."

Remus nodded somberly, a furrow of concern between his eyebrows, but if the man had made it through med school, he obviously wasn't stupid, and Severus wasn't worried. Well, not much. Even though Remus wasn't yet immortal, he was already far less of a burden than Goyle had been.

The scent of rank, unwashed bodies and animal musk grew more intense as they rounded the corner to the right, but Severus was in hunter mode now, pushing such annoyances to the back of his mind and focusing all his attention on his goal. He moved forward with slow deliberation, gun held at eye level, finger half depressing the trigger; down here, shooting first was absolutely necessary. Chances were if you waited to ask questions, you'd already be dead.

He could hear the sounds of voices, muted and distorted by distance and the echoing effect of the tunnels. There was also the thrum of machinery and the deep, throbbing roar of trains, sounds he expected to hear. Yet there was also something else, and Severus stopped, tilting his head to one side and frowning as he tried to identify it. It wasn't mechanical, although it had something of a hiss to it, like air being forced through a narrow aperture.

"Do you hear that?" he asked Remus, annoyed by not being able to tell what the sound was. 

"I don't..." Remus trailed off and cocked his head, frowning intently as if he too were straining to hear, but then his features went slack and his eyes unfocused; he swayed, but before Severus could reach out to steady him, he took a stumbling step backward and pressed his hand to his forehead. "Snake!" He stared at Severus, wide-eyed. "I had one of those memory things again. If what I saw is true, they've got a big-ass snake down here!"

"Snake?" It took Severus only a moment to wrap his mind around what Remus was telling him. Unfortunately, however, that was a moment too long.

The tunnel was filled with a gaping maw, framed by four wicked fangs longer than Severus' arms. "Shit! RUN!" Severus shouted, knowing that Remus was no match for a snake that could swallow him whole in a single bite. The worst part of it was that Severus wasn't certain he was a match for it either.

The good news was that Remus was obedient; scarcely were the words out of Severus' mouth when Remus took off running. The bad news was that he went the opposite direction of what Severus had intended, and the snake slithered between them, cutting Severus off from following in Remus' rapidly retreating wake. 

Six centuries of life had given Severus an extensive vocabulary of profanities, but he didn't waste time or breath on any of them. He was too busy dodging to one side and then firing his gun into the side of the snake as it flashed past him. There seemed no end to the wall of scales that flowed past, cutting him off from Remus, who was running into God only knew what manner of danger. But that gave Severus purpose; if the snake was between him and Remus, he'd simply have to go through the snake.

Reaching into the pocket of his coat, Severus withdrew a weapon that he normally disdained to use, but which, in this case, he felt was justified. Pulling the pin, he tossed the grenade at the snake, then whipped around a corner and dove for the ground, covering his head with his arms and silently counting down. When he reached zero, there was a satisfying explosion, and he felt a blaze of heat near his feet. Rolling upright, he nodded grimly as he peered around the corner; there was still a snake, or what was left of it, but more importantly, there was now a way through.

He wasted no time ducking through the twisted, burned flesh of the monster, then he was off, running as fast as possible in the direction Remus had headed. 

Unfortunately, he ran into difficulty immediately, when he entered a chamber where there were several intersecting tunnels all giving out to a central point. Clenching his jaw in frustration, Severus peered at the floor, but there was no way to tell from the detritus which of the branches Remus might have taken. He turned, peering down each of the narrow passageways, listening intently as he tried to determine which way Remus had gone. He didn't dare call out and give away his own position, especially since the werewolves were no doubt going to be interested in what caused the explosion, and he was certain it wouldn't be difficult for them to tell their reptile hadn't spontaneously combusted.

Suddenly he heard an echoing cry, vibrating through the passages and making his lips draw back from his fangs as he recognized Remus' voice. Without waiting to second guess himself, Severus dashed down one of the corridors, moving swiftly, heedless of any traps or pitfalls which might be in his way. He was reacting with his gut, not his mind, and while his instincts had served him well, he recognized it was a good way for him to end up dead-dead. Which didn't slow him down at all, not until he saw a light ahead as the passageway turned, the voices of several people coming to him more clearly.

"Well, this is a stroke of luck," one deep-pitched voice said. Severus recognized it immediately as being from the werewolf who had bitten Remus, the one who must be James. Severus crept forward slowly, fighting his desire to burst into the open and open fire.

"Yeah, for once," another voice replied, this one even deeper than James' - possibly that of the big, bald werewolf who had killed Goyle. "We should take him and go."

"Search him for weapons first," James said calmly. "He was with a vampire, so he might be rigged. As much as we need him, I don't want to carry a living, breathing trap into the middle of our lair."

"This will be so helpful." Another voice this time, high pitched and sickeningly eager, something about it making the hair on the back of Severus' neck stand up. "With his blood, this much of it, we'll be able to do everything we planned!"

There was a moan, this time from Remus, and that was all that Severus could take. Drawing his gun, he sprang from the tunnel, firing into the group of werewolves even as he assessed the situation. Remus was on the ground, apparently having been knocked out, and the weaselly voiced werewolf and James were crouched down over him. The huge, dark-skinned werewolf stood over them, along with four others who hadn't spoken. They were all armed, and Severus set his jaw, knowing that the odds were against him, but he would leave with place with Remus or he wouldn't leave it at all.

"Attack!" James shouted. Severus' ambush had caught the lycanthropes by surprise, but James recovered with the swiftness expected of an immortal who had survived centuries of being hunted. There were suddenly five guns trained on Severus, who had no choice but to circle around the group, moving with the inhuman speed of his vampiric nature. He was down one gun, and he couldn't use another grenade, not with Remus there and helpless, so he focused instead on shooting the werewolves, aiming for the eyes when he could and hoping for a kill shot each time he pulled the trigger.

The situation erupted into chaos, a flurry of bullets and bodies moving too swiftly for Severus to track completely. He had to react to each immediate danger, dodging incoming fire and returning it as quickly as possible. He saw one werewolf go down, the top of his head blown off, and he felt another bullet go past his own head, so close that he could feel the heat from it. The werewolves were yelling, and then, to his horror, he saw James had picked up Remus and was heading away from the battle, obviously intent on getting away while his minions dealt with Severus.

"NO!" he screamed, desperate to get to Remus and no longer heeding the bullets fired toward him. He continued to shoot, but he wasn't paying as much attention to his targets, instead trying to find a way to get through the werewolves and stop James. 

Soon there were nothing but bodies on the floor around him, and Severus sprinted off in James' wake, determined to finish the job that Lucius had botched centuries before. It was more than just a werewolf versus vampire vendetta now; James had taken Remus, who _belonged_ to Severus, and that made it personal.

He heard the heavy clank of metal ahead, as though a gate had been closed, and as Severus burst into another chamber, he realized that was exactly what it was. A massive iron grill now closed off the passageway, and both James and Remus had disappeared somewhere behind it.

"SHIT!" Severus growled the word, attacking the gate with all his strength. Beyond it, he could hear yet more voices, possibly hundreds of them shouting and laughing, and he realized he had found the lair of the werewolves. Even if he got down there, the beasts would be able to rip him apart with their bare hands just from their sheer numbers.

Torn between the desire to attack and the return of his reason, Severus paced back and forth in front of the gate, as restless as a caged tiger. But despite his desperation to rescue Remus, he knew he couldn't do it by himself, not in the face of these numbers. He needed help and more fire power... and he knew exactly where to get it.

* * *

Returning to consciousness was like wading through glue; even when Remus felt capable of lifting his head and opening his eyes, he was still muzzy-headed, and as he regained enough mental acuity to process the fact that he was strapped down with an IV in his arm, he realized his muddled mind was not only due to the blow to the head he'd received from the heavy fist of a werewolf. 

Memories bubbled up slowly: following Severus through the tunnels, a giant snake, running smack into a band of patrolling werewolves. He remembered running blindly and rounding a corner only to collide with Biter, the werewolf Severus suspected was James. Before he could react, he'd been grabbed, and when he'd struggled, they had knocked him out. Now he was their captive, and he could only hope Severus had escaped, not ended up as snake chow or werewolf fodder. His first instinct was to ask if Severus was alive, but that assumed James would tell him the truth. Besides, James might not know Severus was still out there, and Remus didn't want to risk putting Severus in danger by blurting it out. 

"Ah, you're awake." James smiled pleasantly when he glanced over and saw Remus was looking at him. "Welcome home, Remus." 

"This isn't my home." The words were out before he stopped to think perhaps insulting the man who had him tied up, drugged, and helpless wasn't the smartest idea, but fortunately, James seemed more amused than offended. 

"The vampires' lair isn't your home either," James replied. "Does your friend the Death Eater know what you are? He must not, or you'd be nothing but a red splatter on the nearest wall by now." 

Remus pressed his lips together and refused to answer; the less the werewolves knew about Severus - and how hurting Severus could be used to their advantage with Remus - the better. 

"That's what I thought," James said with smug amusement. "You were right not to tell him you were bitten. His kind can't be trusted. _He_ can't be trusted. If I'm not mistaken, your friend is one of the deadliest, most rabid hunters of our kind. I dare say he has the most werewolf kills of all the Death Eaters, and he's been doing it for hundreds of years." 

Remus went cold, the pit of his stomach plummeting at James' description of Severus, and he reminded himself that Severus did know he was a werewolf and desired him anyway. Severus had promised nothing would change between them even after Remus became a full werewolf, and Remus trusted him. Remus _wanted_ to trust him, because Remus suspected he was already more than half in love with Severus, as stupid as that might be. 

"What do you want with me?" he asked, wanting to divert James from talking about Severus any further. He briefly considered asking if Severus was all right since it was obvious there was no point in hiding the fact that they'd been in the tunnels together, but he didn't want to give James any reason to suspect their connection was closer than he thought, and since he was speaking of Severus in present tense, Remus assumed that meant Severus had gotten away safely. "You've already fucked up my life. What are you going to do now - kill me?" 

"Nothing so mundane as that." James waved dismissively as he moved toward a nearby table, on which was a tray with a syringe and several empty vials. "We need you, Remus." 

Remus stared at him incredulously, and it was on the tip of his tongue to demand to know why, but his mind reeled at the sudden onslaught of images - memories that were not his own. He heard the screaming again and smelled burning flesh, but this time, he saw who was screaming. A woman. A _vampire_ , tied up and left in the sun. Around her neck was the same necklace he'd seen on James. 

"Who was she?" he asked hoarsely, and James whirled to face him again, visibly startled. "The vampire who wore your necklace. Did you kill her? Did you take it as a trophy?" he asked bitterly, putting up a struggle against the shackles that bound him for the first time, but to no avail. 

"No!" James drew himself up and seemed to calm himself before speaking again. "No, I didn't kill her. I would never have hurt her. I loved her." 

Remus gaped at him, stunned by that revelation; he had heard so much about the war and the deep-seated hatred simmering between the vampires and the werewolves that he never dreamed there could have been others who had found love with an enemy. 

"She was killed by her own father," James continued, his voice hard and laced with as much bitterness as if the wound was still fresh rather than centuries old. "By _Voldemort_." 

Remus sucked in a sharp breath. He knew that name. Voldemort was the vampire who had turned Severus, to whom Severus was deeply loyal. He wondered if Severus knew about this. More importantly, he wondered if there was any remote chance Severus might be spared should his connection to Remus be discovered if Voldemort's own daughter hadn't been granted mercy. 

The stakes had suddenly ratcheted much higher. Severus might be courting his own doom in placing too much faith in his lord, but there was nothing Remus could do to warn him. He struggled again, a futile effort, and James chuckled indulgently and picked up the syringe, advancing on Remus with a feral smile. 

"Let's see what your blood can tell me, shall we?"

* * *

Less than two hours after leaving the mansion, Severus returned. He didn't have Remus, but he _did_ have a captive. Hopefully one who could convince his Master that the danger was great and that Lucius was a traitor.

"No, not here. Anywhere but here!"

Severus snorted in contempt, not loosening his grip on the injured werewolf's collar as he dragged the beast through the front door of the mansion.

"Shut up or else you'll find yourself becoming a snack for Voldemort's guests," Severus replied. His captive could barely walk, leaving a trail of blood from the silver bullets he'd been shot with, but he wasn't in danger of dying. Or not yet, at any rate. Once Voldemort heard what the mutt had to say, things could change.

They were the subject of scrutiny by the gathered members of the clan, who were all dressed in finery while they awaited Bellatrix's arrival; some appeared shocked, and others appeared curious as Severus crossed the foyer with his head held high. They had no doubt heard about him fleeing from Lucius, and it was possible that Lucius had even ordered him restrained on sight, but Severus didn't care. Nothing was going to stop him from reaching his Master so Voldemort could finally learn the truth about the traitor he'd taken to his bosom.

No werewolf, not even Remus, had ever been down to the Awakening Chamber, but Severus didn't let that stop him. The Death Eater on guard motioned for Severus to stop and tried to step into Severus' way. With casual ease, Severus backhanded the younger vampire into a wall and waited for the sliding doors to retract so that he could step into what was, without a doubt, the most important room in the mansion.

"Master, I..." Lucius had been speaking to the emaciated figure of Voldemort, who sat on a throne-like chair, hooked up to wires in order to monitor his condition and to tubes running into his shriveled veins, pumping blood directly into his body to hasten his recovery. At Severus' entrance, Lucius whirled, his face twisting with rage. "YOU! How _dare_ you come in here with... _that thing_! Out, out right now, or I'll..."

"You'll do nothing." Voldemort's voice, low pitched and raspy, cut over Lucius' diatribe with an authority that couldn't be denied. His eyes, blood red in his sunken cheeks, locked onto Severus unerringly. "What have you done, Severus?" he asked, those simple words striking at Severus in a way that no amount of screaming from Lucius could ever do. "You have broken so many of our laws that I should order your death at once, but I know you. You wouldn't have done it without reason. I hope it is reason enough for me to spare your life."

Severus dropped to one knee and bowed his head in a show of respect that he never showed another being, living or undead. "My master, I acted out of concern for you and for the clan," he said, and then he rose as Voldemort gestured with one hand. Severus glanced at Lucius, a cold, hard expression on his face. "I feared for your safety, but I knew you would need proof of the treachery threatening us. Proof which I have brought!"

With that, Severus shoved the werewolf down to the floor, where the beast panted and looked as though he were about to be ill.

"I protest!" Lucius said, stepping forward, his pale skin seeming completely bloodless. "My Lord, he brought a werewolf here! How could you trust the word of a beast?"

"SILENCE." Voldemort turned his scarlet gaze on Lucius, who flinched back as though he'd been slapped. "I have nothing but disjointed memories and vague suspicions right now! I have been woken a full century before my time, and I _will_ know the truth!"

"Yes, Master," Severus replied, ignoring Lucius completely. He kicked the werewolf in the leg, making the beast yelp in pain. Not surprising, given the beast's injuries, but at least if Severus had lost Remus down in the tunnels, he'd managed to injure one of the few werewolves who knew what was going on. The "doctor", as he called himself, had been more than eager to spill his guts to keep Severus from killing him, not realizing Severus would drag him straight back to the vampire's lair. "Tell him! Tell him what you told me!"

"Blood... It's in the blood," the werewolf babbled, a crazed look in his wide blue eyes. Severus thought the lycanthrope was half-crazy even without his injuries and the threat of death hanging over him like a looming shadow. "The blood, from the same source, a special source, but with two different powers... Vampire and Werewolf, sprung from the blood of Gryffindor."

Voldemort scowled. "I don't need a history lesson!" he hissed. "Yes, we all know vampires and werewolves originated from the two sons of a single man, a man who had special blood that allowed him to survive the plague when everyone else in his village died. One bitten by a wolf, one by a bat, and that's how our species came to be. But what has this to do with _now_?"

"Three sons... Godric Gryffindor had three sons," the doctor said, grinning in a way that seemed quite mad, lips drawn back from his teeth and making his face look almost like a skull. "One human... A mortal who carried the trait that allowed Gryffindor to survive the plague and Gellert and Albus to survive their bites. Aberforth, he married, had children of his own, and he passed along that trait in the blood. With that blood, it is possible to _combine_ the bloodlines... half vampire, half werewolf... but more powerful than both!"

"ABOMINATION!" Voldemort shrieked, rising to his feet and setting the wires and tubes swaying. Instinctively, Severus started forward to help his Master, but Voldemort, already looking stronger, waved him back with a single gesture as he stepped toward the werewolf. "You speak of things that are forbidden! This cannot be allowed!"

"James doesn't recognize your authority," the doctor replied, giving a nasty, sarcastic little chuckle. "But now he has the blood of Aberforth, and all he needs is the blood of a vampire, and he will be unstoppable!" The doctor noticed the disbelief on Voldemort's face. "Oh, yes, James is alive. He never died, and we've been looking for the descendants of Aberforth for centuries. We found one at last, and soon... soon James will be more than a werewolf... He will be a god!"

In a lightning fast movement, Voldemort brought his arm back, then forward again, his talon-like fingernails slicing through the werewolf's body as though he were nothing but air. Blood erupted from four gashes through his neck, and he fell to the ground, red gore seeping from his body and into the stone crevices on the floor where Gellert still slept.

Severus didn't move, for he didn't care to have his Master's attention on him in that moment. Voldemort stood poised like Death incarnate over the ripped carcass of the werewolf. There was something disturbing in Voldemort's red eyes, something _mad_ , an expression Severus had never seen before, not in all the centuries he had served Voldemort so faithfully. But then it passed, and Voldemort looked at Severus, the familiar expression of grim determination back.

"This human... it is the one you showed me through your blood... the one Lucius said you fled with?" Voldemort asked.

"Yes, Master," Severus replied. "I knew the werewolves wanted him, but I didn't know why. I only knew he must be important to them for some reason."

"So he was. You did well." Oddly enough, Voldemort's words made Severus wary, rather than relieved. "I will forgive you for waking me and for the laws you have broken; all you must do is kill the human, this Remus Lupin. Do it and return here. Meanwhile, I must deal with..." Voldemort turned, frowning. "Lucius! Lucius, come here at once! Lucius! You have some explaining of your own to do!"

But Lucius was gone, obviously smart enough not to have stayed around to hear his punishment. Given the task Severus had to perform simply to be forgiven for the sin of being right, Severus found he couldn't blame Lucius for running away.

He gave a perfunctory bow, for once feeling none of the respect the gesture implied. Then he turned and left the Awakening Chamber, not knowing where to go or what to do now. Disobeying his Master was unthinkable, and yet so was killing Remus. He was caught in the proverbial no-win situation, and nothing in all those books he'd read, nothing in all the battles he'd fought during the long, long centuries gave him any clue about what he should do now.


	6. Chapter 6

Severus wasn't certain how long he wandered the halls of the mansion, so inwardly focused he barely noticed where he was, not until he almost walked right into Regulus, who was at the head of a phalanx of Death Eaters. Frowning, Severus oriented himself time-wise with the instinct all vampires had, and he realized it was close to midnight.

"What are _you_ doing here? Shouldn't you be escorting Bellatrix?" he asked, something about the situation setting off alarm bells in his head.

Regulus came to a stop, frowning with obvious displeasure. "Lucius pulled me at the last minute," he said flatly. "He wouldn't even say why. He just told me to shut up and do as I was told." His lips thinned into a hard line, and his pale eyes flashed with resentment; his own mortal family had been just as wealthy and of as noble a lineage as Lucius' family, and Severus could well imagine how little Regulus cared for being spoken to like a peon. "I have no idea who is escorting Bellatrix, but it won't be me or any of my people."

Severus went still at that as a horrific realization came to him. "Lucius is a traitor. He never killed James, and he must have given the werewolves Bellatrix's location." He reached out, grasping Regulus' arms. "We're probably too late to save her, but I know where he would have gone. Come with me! We can stop Lucius _and_ James."

"No, I can't abandon Bellatrix," Regulus replied, shaking his head vehemently. "She's more than an Elder to me. She's family, and if she's in danger, I must try to save her. Take my people with you," he said, gesturing to the squadron of Death Eaters behind him. "Take these as well." He beckoned to a woman standing beside and slightly behind him, and she stepped forward and held out a small case to Severus. "I promised you new toys. Never let it be said I don't fulfill my promises."

Severus took the case, opening it quickly and seeing magazines of bullets inside, all of them clear and containing a liquid that gleamed. "Liquid silver?" he said, his eyes wide as he imagined what would happen to any werewolf hit with such a thing. It would be just like what happened to Goyle. 

As much as Severus appreciated the ammunition and as much as he wanted Regulus at his side in what was to come, he did know what Bellatrix meant to his friend, and he nodded, slipping the case into the pocket of his coat. "I know what you have to do and why," he said. For a moment, he wondered if he would ever see Regulus again, and he felt an uncharacteristic surge of emotion which caused him to step forward and embrace Regulus tightly. "Good luck, my friend. I hope we both survive this night."

Regulus went still for a moment, as if surprised by the embrace, but then he wound his arms around Severus in return. "I hope so too," he murmured. "I am not willing to throw away my life or yours because of that traitorous coward." He drew back, and Severus could see he was scowling again. "You should know I gave Lucius some of that ammunition as well. If I'd known what he was up to, I wouldn't have."

The information was dismaying, but not so much as to change Severus' mind. He held Regulus close for another moment, then released him and stepped back. "I'll meet you back here, when we've both succeeded," he said firmly, giving Regulus a slight but genuine smile. Then he looked at the Death Eaters and nodded. "All right, let's go. We're headed into James' lair, so watch your backs! He's survived longer than any other werewolf we know. That makes him the most dangerous."

With that, he turned and headed walked away, hearing the Death Eaters following along behind him. All but one, who had a different mission and a different destiny. He just hoped they both survived and would meet again.

* * *

Regulus heard the screams before the coppery stench of blood hit his nostrils, and he knew he was too late. He'd heard death cries before, both from comrades and enemies, and his stomach roiled and sank at the realization that if his kinswoman wasn't dead, she would be before he could reach her.

The knowledge didn't stop him from running toward the train, heading for the car with blood-spattered windows; he drew his gun, which he'd loaded with the liquid silver bullets, and focused on nothing but avenging Bellatrix's death. He might die himself in the process, but he would make damned certain to take as many of the mutts with him as possible.

With a fierce roar, he leaped onto the platform at the back of the car and barreled in, immediately overwhelmed by the carnage that met his eyes. He'd been in countless battles of varying sizes from a duel to a war, but this was one of the more horrifying sights that even his jaded eyes had seen. It wasn't a battle; it was a slaughter. The floor was slick with blood, and pale limbs had been torn off and tossed aside. The mutts who had done this had _enjoyed_ it, taking pleasure in overwhelming their victims and making their last moments horrific ones.

He found Bellatrix sprawled in the aisle like a broken doll, her ancient eyes glazed in the final death from which there was no return, not even for them; her body had been savaged, and the sight of it made murderous fury rise within Regulus, white hot and primal. Rational thought fled, leaving only the desire for revenge, and he sprinted out of the car, following the scent of blood and animal musk.

Just as he reached the end of the train, a solid weight dropped on him. Caught by surprise, Regulus tumbled to the ground, narrowly missing the electrified rail, and his gun flew from his hand at the impact. By the time he rolled over, someone was standing over him, a slender form with long, dark hair, features obscured by the light behind his head. But the gun the figure held trained on Regulus' heart was clear enough, and the clip obviously held the UV rounds that would turn a vampire to nothing but ash in a matter of moments.

Strangely enough, the werewolf didn't fire; instead he stood looking down at Regulus for a moment, and then he spoke, his voice a soft tenor full of surprise. "I know you!"

Despite his vulnerable position, Regulus spit at the werewolf. "No doubt! I've killed enough of your kind. If you've seen _me_ before, you're lucky to be alive."

"Charming," the werewolf replied dryly, and then, bizarrely, he chuckled. "Regulus Black, right?"

Regulus was momentarily startled to hear his own name from the mutt's lips, but he rallied quickly and snarled. "None of your damned business!" He glared up at the mutt, debating whether he could move quickly enough to grab his gun and fire. If he rolled quickly enough... if the mutt wasn't as quick... if the mutt was taken by surprise...

There came a shout from close by and a feral growl; the werewolf grimaced, but he didn't look away. He seemed to consider something, and then he motioned with the gun barrel. "Stand up. The others are coming back, so I need to get you out of here. Otherwise... Well, you can imagine what will happen to you."

Regulus stared at the mutt with growing confusion, and for a moment, he was torn between trying to kill the werewolf before it could kill him and saving his own skin in order to fight another day. He had no idea why the werewolf wasn't calling to its comrades to finish him off, but now that the heat of wrath was fading, he saw a potential advantage to complying rather than making a suicide run. Killing himself in the name of revenge wouldn't bring Bellatrix back, but he could get faces, perhaps names, and he would know which mutts to hunt later.

Wordlessly, he stood, keeping his hands slightly spread to show he wasn't going to reach for a weapon. As far as he was concerned, werewolves were for killing, not conversing with, but for once, curiosity got the better of him. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded.

The werewolf smiled, a flash of even, white teeth in a tanned face. "I suppose you could say it's because you're family, of a sort. Your brother, Sirius, is the one who turned me into a werewolf. Under the circumstances, that makes us practically related, doesn't it?" The voices were closer, and the smile faded. "Move. We can talk about things later, when it's safe. I'm afraid you'll have to trust me. Difficult, I know, although it's not like you have much choice, is it?"

The mention of his brother made Regulus' lip curl in a disdainful sneer, but he had to admit his choices were limited, and he wasn't ready to end up like Bellatrix and her escorts; he had too much to do to die just yet. He was coldly furious with Lucius, not at all grateful that Lucius had spared him. Lucius knew Regulus had too many allies and too many valuable skills, and Regulus had been "saved" for practical, not sentimental, reasons. Others had been sent to their certain deaths - good people whom Regulus had trained and fought beside - and Lucius would pay for that as well.

The option he was left with was scarcely more palatable, but it would let him live, and so he moved as instructed, wondering if he was being led into salvation and a possible escape or if he would end up no better off than his kinswoman. He was alive, at least, and he would do whatever he could to make certain he stayed that way.

* * *

"It's thirty meters further on. There is a big gate, but we have enough explosives to take it," Severus told the squad of Death Eaters gathered around him. They'd made it back into the tunnels without challenge, but Severus didn't harbor any hopes that the werewolves were going to roll over and play dead. It was far more likely that they were entrenching, ready to fight an all out battle to the death. Only one side was going to come out of this alive, and even though Severus didn't like the odds against him, he had no other choice. He wasn't going to walk away and abandon Remus to the werewolves, even if it meant his own destruction.

"And then what?" Dolohov, one of the oldest of the Death Eaters, asked. He'd been with Voldemort since the very beginning, back when Voldemort had still been mortal, and therefore he could make things difficult for Severus if he didn't care for Severus' plans.

"Then we go down. We've fought these things in their dens before. It's like hunting wolverines in their holes. They get vicious if they smell fear," Macnair snapped. He was another senior Death Eater and one who had no real liking for Dolohov, despite the centuries they'd hunted werewolves side by side; he was brutal man who enjoyed killing for the sake of killing, and his hatred of werewolves made even Severus' loathing of them pale in comparison.

"Yes, we've done this before," Severus said, interjecting before Dolohov could bite out a retort to Macnair's implication about his bravery. "The different here is this is James himself and Kingsley, his senior lieutenant. This is going to be more brutal than anything we've ever faced."

The Death Eaters around him nodded grimly; they were all shocked to learn about James' survival and Lucius' web of lies, but they were also professionals, and they knew whoever killed James would end up with more status and power than any of them could imagine. It made them, if not eager, at least determined to achieve success.

"Shoot first, ask questions later," Severus said, looking at each of them in turn. "The only exception is a young werewolf, recently bitten. He's the subject of James' interest, and he belongs to _me_. No one else is to touch him, do you understand? Our Master specifically placed his life in my hands." That was true, even if Severus didn't intend to kill Remus as his Master had ordered. He simply had to make certain none of the other Death Eaters did it. "It won't be hard to tell who he is. He still looks innocent, and he's probably tied up or imprisoned. You all have the liquid silver rounds Regulus made? Good. Those will level the playing field, given we are outnumbered at least ten to one from the number of werewolves I heard earlier. Just remember they have rounds that are equally as lethal to _us_. As they old saying goes, no Death Eater ever won a battle by dying for our Master; they win a battle by making the miserable beasts on the other side die for _theirs_. All right, then. Let's go."

The group started forward toward the gate, the point at which Severus had been thwarted before. They passed the carcass of the snake and the bodies of the lycanthropes Severus had killed earlier, still lying where they had met their doom. Obviously the werewolves had more important things on their minds than retrieving their dead.

When they reached the gate, Severus gestured for Avery and Rosier to set the charges which would blow the iron to shreds, and then all of them took cover as the massive explosion rocked the entire area and made the walls tremble, raining dirt and rocks down on them. But the result was adequate, letting them pass through and continue on toward the werewolves' lair. They hadn't gone more than twenty paces when all hell broke loose around them.

Werewolves, some in human form and some in their bestial state, charged down the corridor, while others seemed to erupt from side corridors that hadn't been there moments before. The Death Eaters didn't panic, however; they were no band of marauding vampires, but a trained and lethal force. Still, there were so many werewolves coming at them that casualties were inevitable, and Severus knew if they stayed grouped up, the beasts would surround them and keep pressing until they all fell.

"Split!" he shouted, and the Death Eaters swiftly divided into groups of two and three to guard each other's backs as they leapt over the heads of the werewolves, turning the tables and separating the lycanthropes from each other in order to pick them off. Severus found himself with Macnair and Rosier, and the three of them took down over a dozen werewolves with the liquid silver rounds, hearing the beasts scream in agony as they writhed, the poisonous metal burning through their bodies like acid. It would have been mesmerizing to watch, if Severus had had time to savor, but he didn't. A swift glance behind him showed the way ahead was clear, and not only that, there was an odd, medicinal smell coming from that direction. The "doctor" had wanted to experiment on Remus, which meant that there was probably a laboratory where he would have been taken. 

"This way," Severus said, leading Macnair and Rosier away from the fight. He knew the other Death Eaters would break off and follow as they could; for now, however, it was time to seize the opportunity to get deeper into the place and find Remus. That was all that mattered to him... that, and making sure James paid the price for biting the man Severus loved.

* * *

There was nothing Remus hated more than feeling helpless, especially as helpless and out of options as he felt at that moment. He was strapped down on a metal operating table that appeared, to his limited view, to be straight out of a horror movie, and he wondered if it was an antique that had seen previous use hoisting Frankenstein's monster in the air to be struck by lightning. A thick strap pinned his torso, and there were smaller straps at his wrists and ankles, all of which were fastened to the table itself, and no matter how much he squirmed, he felt no slack and no give.

He wished for the super-strength of a real werewolf, but then again, he was being held captive _by_ werewolves, which meant they likely knew how to contain one of their own. He didn't even have the option of being bad-ass and breaking his own thumbs to escape as he'd once seen on television because even if his agonized screams didn't alert his captors that he was trying to escape, he would still have the other three straps to contend with, which would be difficult with only eight working fingers.

After drawing Remus' blood, James had disappeared, leaving Remus to lie there and stew; between the tranquilizer they'd given him and the lack of any discernible timepiece in the room, Remus had no idea how much time had elapsed since he'd been separated from Severus or how long he was left alone in that cold, sterile room. It could have been ten minutes or two hours as far as Remus knew before James returned, looking quite pleased.

"It seems we have the right man after all," James said, sounding cheerful, which made Remus even more nervous. Whatever made James so happy probably didn't bode well for Remus. "But we need you to be one of us before we can move on to the next stage."

"I thought I was already one of you," Remus said, rolling his head as he tried to track James around the room and see what he was doing.

"You haven't transformed," James said, and Remus' eyes widened with alarm when he realized James was preparing a needle. "But fortunately, we have a way to speed along the process."

"Isn't the full moon tomorrow night? Why would you need to speed up the process? It's going to happen naturally in less than twenty-four hours." Remus was babbling, but he didn't care; he wasn't eager to transform at all, much less have the process artificially induced, but James approached with the needle, his expression implacable.

"We need your blood _now_ ," James replied, not bothering to sterilize Remus' skin before jabbing the needle into his arm, and Remus hissed with pain as the amber liquid flowed into his veins. "Just relax," James added in a soothing voice. "It's more painful if you fight it."

Remus began to struggle against his bonds again, growing frantic. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded. "I don't understand what you want from me!"

"You don't need to understand. All you need to do is be quiet and do as you're-"

"Damn you!" A new voice, a furious roar, entered the conversation, and Remus whipped his head around to see Lucius storming into the laboratory, his expression thunderous. "We had a bargain, James! It didn't involve you outing yourself to the Death Eaters or starting a fight in front of the cattle!"

"You wanted me to help you rise to power," James replied in a deceptively mild and pleasant voice that made Remus shiver. "You wanted me to get Bellatrix out of the way. I've upheld my end of the bargain. What I do on my own time is my business, not yours."

"Voldemort is awake, and his pet Death Eater is suspicious of me," Lucius snapped, his expression thunderous. On the table, Remus lay still and quiet, trying not to attract the vampire's attention; Lucius had tried to kill him the last time they met, and Remus was happy to let James take the heat this time in favor of avoiding Lucius' wrath while he was trussed and unable to defend himself.

"Voldemort is awake?" James' eyes gleamed ferally, and he bared his teeth in a mirthless smile. "Perfect."

"For _you_ , perhaps, but you can be certain that if I go down, I am taking you with me," Lucius retorted.

"Don't be such a drama queen." James rounded on Lucius with obvious annoyance, baring his teeth and growling. "This will benefit you as well as me! Bellatrix was only the first obstacle. You still need to get Voldemort out of your way, and I have the means of doing it."

Lucius narrowed his eyes as he peered at James, and he folded his arms. "I'm listening."

"Meet our secret weapon," James said, gesturing to Remus, and Lucius whirled to stare at him as if only just noticing his lowly presence.

"That human?" Lucius curled his lip in a disdainful sneer. "He's nothing but a Death Eater's toy."

"You're wrong." James was smiling in that dangerously pleasant way again, and Remus tried not to squirm and draw undue attention to himself, but he could feel a prickle beneath his skin, as if something just under the surface was trying to get out. "He's the answer to our mutual problem. With his blood, I can create warriors - a hybrid breed that is more powerful than both vampires _and_ werewolves. They will kill Voldemort, and then they will serve you."

"What?" Lucius appeared incredulous, and if the prickle hadn't escalated into jagged pain slicing at the underside of his skin, Remus would have been incredulous too. "How is this possible?"

Remus wanted to ask the same thing, but all that emerged from his throat was a bestial snarl, and James turned to him, obviously pleased by what he saw. Remus could see James was speaking, but he couldn't hear, the words drowned out by his own howls as he felt his joints pop and his muscles tear. He writhed on the table, his back bowed and his head thrown back; his features were distorted in a rictus of agony, and all semblance of higher thought dissipated under the onslaught of pain far more excruciating than anything he had ever experienced before in his life, and oblivion, when it came, was merciful and welcome.


	7. Chapter 7

There were werewolves everywhere, and for the first time in his existence as a vampire, Severus thought he might be outnumbered.

Back pressed against a wall, Severus reloaded his gun with careful determination, refusing to be rushed by the sounds of battle that surrounded him on all sides. Somewhere along the line, perhaps three or four skirmishes ago, he'd become separated from the main group of Death Eaters and hadn't been able to hook up with them since. There were too many twists and turns in the tunnels, dead ends and pitfalls that the werewolves seemed to know and the vampires didn't. He was lucky to have made it this far with no backup, but he wasn't certain how much longer his luck was going to last. He needed to find Remus and get him out of this hellish place before they were found.

Now that his gun was reloaded - and he desperately wished he had the second one he'd given to Remus - Severus listened carefully, then began to move again, taking the direction that seemed to be leading away from the most fighting. If the werewolves were indeed herding the invaders, then it made sense that they would draw their opponents away from what they were trying to protect, and in Severus' mind, there was no doubt that the thing they were protecting was Remus.

The tunnels were low and dank, but Severus thought he might be headed in the right direction because the sounds of battle receded, and the air had an odd, medicinal scent overlaying the odors of beast and mold. Moving as slowly and silently as possible, Severus approached a bend in the tunnel, every nerve on alert for danger. When he reached the corner, he counted silently to three, then, gun at the ready, he whirled around the edge of the wall, finding himself face to face with one of the biggest, ugliest werewolves he'd ever seen in his life. Fortunately he got the drop on the beast, and in the space of one blink and another, he fired, sending six rounds of the liquid silver straight into the werewolf's forehead.

The beast dropped, dead before the silver even had time to eat away at his face, but Severus didn't stay to watch. He was more interested in the door the werewolf had been guarding, and he moved closer, listening intently to see if he heard anything beyond it. But all was quiet, and Severus didn't hesitate any longer, opening the door and stepping inside, finger half-depressing the trigger of the gun so that he could fire at once if he needed to.

He didn't.

On a metal table lay Remus, his clothes shredded and his skin pale and damp. Remus' cheeks were sunken, and for a moment, Severus wondered wildly if he were dead, for there didn't seem to be any rise or fall to Remus' chest. Yet if he were dead, why would they have left him bound to the table?

Hurrying to Remus' side, Severus leaned down, then gave in to a moment of weakness, pressing his lips to Remus' forehead as he heard the faint but unmistakable sounds of Remus breathing, his vampiric nature able to sense the life within Remus now that he was closer. He was vastly relieved, and he straightened again, tugging at the straps that bound Remus and surprised to find they resisted even his strength. They couldn't, however, resist being cut, which would help loosen them enough that he could rip them off, and Severus wasted no time in procuring a scalpel from a tray on a nearby metal table, the once-gleaming instrument caked with the dried remains of what he angrily thought might be Remus' own blood. 

Once Remus was released, Severus cradled his cheek with one hand. "Wake up!" he said, his voice low but urgent. Remus didn't respond, and Severus felt a pressing urgency to leave when he heard the sounds of approaching footsteps outside. Scooping Remus up in his arms, he turned and headed toward another door at the back of the room, hoping that it led somewhere he could get his bearings and get Remus out.

The door led into another corridor, but there were no sounds of combat that Severus could hear. He cradled Remus as carefully as he could while still keeping his gun accessible, and he hoped Remus would wake up and be on his own feet before they ran into anyone else. Otherwise, Severus wasn't certain how he could fight and still keep Remus safe.

A few moments later, Remus stirred, a low groan escaping him, and slowly, he opened his eyes, gazing up at Severus blearily. "Severus?" he sounded both hopeful and uncertain, as he didn't quite trust what he was seeing.

Severus stopped at the sound Remus made and looked down into Remus' face, hope mixed with concern. There was something different about Remus, something... wrong. Severus could see it in Remus' eyes, a new-found knowledge of pain and horror lurking there, a shadow of the beast. "Yes, it's me," he said quietly. "What did they do to you?"

Despite all the strange and dangerous situations Remus had had thrown at him since their first encounter in the subway, he had remained strong rather than falling apart, a trait which Severus admired; it seemed, however, that Remus had reached his limit, because he wound his arms tightly around Severus' shoulders and buried his face against Severus' neck.

"He injected me with something," he said, his voice muffled, but even still, Severus could tell he sounded unusually subdued. "It forced me to transform. I don't remember what happened after that. I suppose he forced me to change back."

Severus' jaw tightened as Remus spoke, and he could feel himself shaking with the force of his rage. "I will kill him," he said, his voice low with barely suppressed fury. "I will tear him apart with my bare hands for what he's done to you!"

Remus clung to him even tighter. "I'm one of them now." He drew back just enough to gaze at Severus with haunted eyes. "I'm a werewolf..." He didn't say _a beast_ , but it seemed to Severus as though the words hung in the air between them. "It's real. You won't hate me now, will you? He said you have more werewolf kills than anyone."

The words tore a hole in Severus' heart, not because he was ashamed of what he had done to the creatures he'd hunted and killed over his long life, but because of the doubt it made Remus feel now. The innocence was gone from Remus' eyes, but he was still _Remus_ , not a monster, not one of _them_.

"No, I won't hate you. I could _never_ hate you," Severus said, his tone vehement. He tightened his arms around Remus, holding him close as though he could reassure Remus of his sincerity by his embrace alone. "You are yourself. They _did_ this to you; you never asked for it. You're a victim, just as my family was. I've been making them pay for that for hundreds of years, and I will make them pay for what they did for you until every last one of _them_ has been destroyed."

"I believe you," Remus replied softly, touching Severus' cheek with his fingertips. "But I don't want you to destroy them for my sake. I doubt I'm the only werewolf who was turned without consent, and I don't want revenge. There will only be more victims that way." He glanced around, appearing more alert, as if whatever he had been drugged with was wearing off at last. "We should go," he said. "Lucius is here. Or he _was_. He showed up and confronted James right before I transformed. I don't know how long ago that was, though."

The mention of Lucius caused Severus to go rigid, his mind racing. Lucius was a coward and a traitor, but he was also dangerous and could be counted upon to do what was most convenient and beneficial for himself, particularly if it was at the expense of everyone else. 

"Can you walk?" he asked Remus, dark eyes searching Remus' face for any signs of pain or lingering weakness from his ordeal. "I need to have my arms free to shoot."

Remus released his tight hold on Severus and nodded. "I can walk. I don't know how quickly or how straight," he added, a hint of his old humor resurfacing, "but I can walk. They took the gun you gave me, I'm afraid."

"Which is why I assume you were lashed to that table without a complement of dead bodies around it," Severus replied dryly, a bit of his own wit answering Remus'. "I have enough ammunition to get us out of here... I hope." Moving carefully, Severus placed Remus on his feet, but he kept his arm around Remus' waist. "All right?" he asked, ready to catch Remus if he showed any indication that he might fall.

Remus was a little wobbly, and he flung out his hand to brace himself against the wall, but after a moment, he seemed to steady himself, and he nodded. "I'm all right," he said, giving Severus a reassuring smile. "I won't fall flat on my face, I promise."

"If we run into trouble, duck and cover. The best thing you can do is keep yourself alive." Severus wasted a single moment and claimed a swift, hard kiss from Remus' lips. "And for God's sake, if you have to run off, make sure there isn't a giant snake between us, all right?"

"I will," Remus replied, laughing shakily. "Duck, cover, avoid giant snakes. I can manage that." He drew in a deep breath, and his features hardened with determination. "I'm ready," he said firmly.

"All right." Severus nodded, and then he turned and headed down the corridor, resisting the urge to look behind him constantly to check that Remus wasn't falling behind.

It was slow going as they made their way down the corridor; Severus found it necessary to stop and listen intently every so often to make certain no one was sneaking up behind them. The sounds of fighting grew more distant, and Severus was just starting to think they might get away when a figure stepped out of the shadows ahead of them, resolving into the form of none other than James himself.

"Well, this _is_ a surprise," he said, leveling a gun at Severus. They faced each other, and even though he desperately wanted to look over his shoulder to see if Remus was doing as ordered, Severus couldn't afford to look away from James, not when they each had the other at gunpoint, and the first one to flinch would be the first one to die.

"If you let us go, I won't kill you. This time," Severus said, his voice cold.

"Now why would I do that?" James raised a brow, a small smile playing around his lips. "Remus is one of _us_. You must know that... Severus, isn't it? What does a big, bad Death Eater, one of Voldemort's personal flunkies, want with one of _my_ werewolves? You obviously don't want to kill him, so what is it?"

"It's none of your concern," Severus snapped, his eyes narrowing in anger. It was dangerous to let himself feel the hatred, but he couldn't seem to help it. This was the beast who had bitten Remus, and if Severus had ever wanted to kill a lycanthrope, this was the one. "Let us go, or you will die. A simple choice, is it not?"

"You got what you wanted from me." Remus spoke up from behind Severus, and Severus could feel Remus' presence close against his back. "I'm not really one of you. All you wanted was to use me, so don't pretend I'm part of some werewolf brotherhood. I know better than that. I'm a pawn - a tool. Nothing more."

"You're more than that, Remus, far, far more." There was an almost fanatical light in James' eyes. "You are the key, the one who will give me the power to defeat Voldemort at last."

"You'll never defeat him!" Severus' voice cracked like a whip. "You've been hiding for centuries because you _know_ he could destroy you!"

"I've been... discreet," James replied, shrugging unconcernedly. "I've had to be, because I was looking for the blood of Aberforth, the blood that would bring about the one thing that Voldemort himself truly fears." James' lips twisted in bitterness. "Voldemort is the coward, so much of a coward that he killed his own daughter."

"That's a lie!" Severus took a half step toward James. "Vampires do not kill other vampires. It is one of our fundamental laws!"

"A law that Voldemort broke, as he breaks any law that doesn't suit him." James snorted in disgust. "He killed his daughter, my _wife_ , because she dared to love me and bear my child! That's what he fears: the mixing of the bloodlines. Once the werewolves and the vampires were allies! We were the daylight guardians of the vampires, making certain no harm came to them while they slumbered. But when Voldemort came to power, he subjugated the werewolves, turned us into little more than slaves. But Lily... Lily was nothing like her father. When she looked at me, she didn't see me as a lowly beast, but as the man she loved. For that, Voldemort bound her and let the sunlight burn her to death! How does that make you feel about your heroic master, Severus? He is the beast! He's the one who would kill anyone - lycanthrope, vampire, or mortal - who stands in his way. Even his own flesh and blood!"

Stunned by James' revelation, Severus stepped back and drew closer to Remus. He wanted to scream that it was all lies, but the pain on James' face, the _loss_ , even after all these centuries, gave his words the unmistakable air of truth. Voldemort had violated one of their basic laws, had killed his own flesh and blood, and something in Severus recoiled in horror. After losing his own family, whom he had loved deeply, Severus couldn't imagine killing his own child for the crime of loving a werewolf! And Severus now knew with absolute certainty that Voldemort would repudiate him as well. All Severus' years of service, of unfailing devotion, would be worthless, because he loved Remus.

"No," he whispered, trying to deny it, but knowing he couldn't, not really. 

He felt Remus' hand on his back in a silent gesture of support even before Remus spoke up. "So all of this - centuries of war - is about nothing but revenge? It's pointless on both sides. You could have walked away, but instead, you've spent all this time obsessing over Voldemort, and you've ruined countless lives in the process, including mine." Remus stepped out from behind Severus and moved into his line of sight, speaking directly to him. "The reason James wanted me is because he thinks he can use my blood to create a vampire/werewolf hybrid. He claims I'm the descendant of someone named Gryffindor, and he wants to use me to create super-powered warriors to fight Voldemort. That's what this is all about."

Severus was having trouble wrapping his mind around everything he'd heard. There was too much, too many complications; perhaps that was why he failed to notice the approach of someone else until the gunfire started.

Three red starbursts erupted on James' chest, and Severus watched as James fell as if in slow motion to his knees. A werewolf as old as James would normally have shrugged off bullets as though they were nothing, but Severus saw the streaks of silver mixed in with the blood that streamed down James' chest. Liquid silver... and Severus knew, even before he lifted his gaze to look behind James, who had fired them.

"Lucius." Severus' voice was devoid of emotion as he saw the blond-haired vampire standing there, sighting down the barrel of his gun. 

"Of course," Lucius replied, his lips twisted in a smile that was far too predatory for Severus' liking. "There. One problem taken care of. And now for the second." He shifted his aim, and before Severus could move, he fired again - straight at Remus.

Time seemed to slow as Severus watched Remus fly backward from the impact of the bullets and land in a broken sprawl. Remus stared, wide-eyed, down at his chest at the flow of blood and liquid silver, his expression a blend of horror and incomprehension, and he lifted one hand in supplication before letting it fall limply by his side. He looked up and turned his gaze on Severus.

"Didn't duck in time... S-sorry..." he murmured.

"NO!" Severus wanted to fire at Lucius, but the liquid silver bullets in his gun would do little to the other vampire, and the stricture against taking another vampire's life was so deeply ingrained in him that he couldn't pull the trigger. Instead he ran to Remus' side, kneeling beside him and pulling Remus into his arms. 

Not since the slaughter of his family had Severus felt so much pain, so much helplessness, as he cradled Remus against his chest, stroking the hair back from Remus' cheek. "No... don't die... you can't die!" he said frantically. "It can't end like this... not like this, not again!"

"Poor Severus. You always lose what matters to you, don't you?" Lucius said, his voice full of insincere sympathy.

"Shut up!" Severus snapped his head up, his temper rising, hatred blazing from his dark eyes as he glared at Lucius. "When I tell Voldemort what you have done..."

"What, that I killed James _and_ the werewolf who poses the greatest threat to our kind?" Lucius chuckled and shook his head. "He'll be so pleased, he'll let me have _you_ , if I still want you. But your precious, lying Voldemort won't be around much longer, you see. I'll be the master, Severus, and you'll be bowing to _me_."

"Never!" Severus turned his attention back to Remus, pressing one hand against the wound on Remus' chest, trying to stem the flow of blood. "Remus, stay with me. Fight it! I can't lose you, too."

Remus' face was already growing pale from shock and blood loss, and his skin was clammy and dappled with sweat; his breathing had grown labored and ragged, but he lifted his hand to cover Severus'. "Don't want to leave you," he murmured, slumping limply against Severus' chest. "But it hurts..." His voice trailed off into a whimper that ended on an alarming rattling gasp.

"Hang on," Severus said roughly. He hadn't prayed in centuries, but he prayed now - for help, for Remus, for both of them - that they could find a way out of this.

"Does it seem familiar, Severus?" Lucius asked, his tone conversational. He lowered the gun and stared down at Severus, and Severus thought that even now, he saw a flash of sick jealousy in Lucius' pale eyes. "Remember the night your family died? Who was that you held then... your sister, wasn't it? I remember that night, too. The night Voldemort killed your family and brought you into the clan, making you one of _us_."

"What?" Severus snapped his head up and fixed Lucius with a stare that, by rights, should have killed Lucius where he stood. "The werewolves killed my family!"

"No." Lucius smiled nastily. "That's what your beloved master wanted you to think. But the truth was something very different. He enjoys a bit of sport, you see, and even though we aren't supposed to feed on humans, Voldemort ignored that law just as he ignored the laws about vampires killing vampires, and I had to come along behind to clean up his messes. That night, Voldemort was in a frenzy, and when we came upon your home, he tore through your family as though they were sheep, draining them dry. All but you... There was something in your eyes when he looked down at you that reminded him of his precious Lily - the daughter he'd killed. He took you in, made you a vampire, and secured your unquestioning loyalty by claiming the werewolves had killed your family."

Severus wanted to scream that it was all a lie, that Lucius was making it up to torment him, but every word of it rang true, sounding a death-knell in his heart for his devotion to the man he'd followed with slavish loyalty for hundreds of years. He turned his head away, looking down at Remus with eyes that were flat and empty as a doll's. 

Lucius was silent, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was that of Remus' labored breathing. Then Lucius spoke again. "I'm going to destroy Voldemort, just as I destroyed Bellatrix. Then only Gellert will be left to deal with, and that's simple: we simply don't wake him. The old guard is done, Severus. Join me. We can be together and make the vampire clan what it _should_ be. It's all yours, Severus, if you want it."

"No." The word was flat and empty, but it was the only word Severus could say. He didn't want any of this. All he wanted was Remus, and Remus lay in his arms, his warm blood soaking Severus' clothes, covering his hands, and dripping onto the stone floor. "Go away, Lucius. Do what you wish, but I'll not be a part of it."

"Fine!" Lucius' voice held anger, but Severus didn't even look up. "Die here with your beast. I'm done with you!" Severus heard Lucius stomp off, but he didn't care where Lucius went or what Lucius did anymore.

Looking down at Remus, Severus released a shaky breath, grief and bitterness tormenting him. "I failed you," he murmured. "I'm sorry. Sorry I couldn't keep you safe."

"You can save him." James' voice was weak, but his words were filled with urgency, and when Severus turned to look at him, surprised that he still lived, he saw James was struggling to sit up, gazing at Remus with fanatical fervor. "Bite him! Bite him, and you will save his life. You will make him stronger and better than any of us!"

"Are you mad?" Severus stared at the other werewolf in disbelief. James' lips were blue, and his skin had taken on a sickly greyish tone, but he still lived.

"Bite him!" James repeated. "He'll be what I thought to be. Half vampire, half werewolf... but more powerful than us both!"

Severus turned to look down at his dying lover, a faint spark of hope blazing to life within him. If there was any way to save Remus, any chance at all, Severus would take it. He didn't care if it cost him his own life. Yet he knew Remus never wanted to be a werewolf, and to be something else might be more than Remus could take. "What should I do?" he asked, looking down at Remus, unaware of the agony in his own eyes. "Could you bear it?"

"Do it," Remus whispered through lips that were turning blue like James', and he sagged against Severus, seeming too weak to move any longer. "If he's wrong, I'm going to die anyway. I don't want to die. If he's right, I'll bear it. At least _this_ was my decision."

For a moment longer, Severus hesitated, looking down into Remus' eyes, seeing the pain in them, watching as they clouded over. Soon they would close forever, and Severus couldn't bear the thought. He parted his lips, his fangs descending, and before he could change his mind, he lowered his head and bit down on Remus' throat, feeling the warm sweetness of Remus' blood as it spilled over his tongue.

He could hear Remus moan, although whether the sound was one of pain or pleasure, he couldn't tell. Remus lifted his arms, but rather than push Severus away in fear or disgust now that Severus was feeding on him, he pulled Severus closer, accepting him and turning to him for help once more in the same gesture. 

Hunger rose in Severus, but he fought it, fought the desire to drain Remus dry and leave him nothing but a husk. He lifted his mouth so that he could stare down into Remus' face, anxiously looking for a sign that it was working. "Remus?" he asked, his voice hoarse and barely recognizable as his own. "Remus!"

But Remus' face was pale and still, and his eyes were closed; his arms fell away from Severus' shoulders, and his body was limp in Severus' arms, motionless and unresponsive, and Severus could neither see nor hear his breathing any longer. 

"No! No!" Severus looked toward James, his face a horrific, twisted mask of grief and anger. "You lied! I killed him! You made me kill him!"

James opened his eyes, his own breathing barely audible. He seemed about to speak, but then his eyes moved to the doorway behind Severus, and Severus saw James' face take on a death's head smile. "Hello, Voldemort," he said, his voice tenuous but still clear. "You're too late, as you can see."

Severus turned his head, unsurprised to see his Master standing there, looking at James with an expression of such loathing that he was barely recognizable.

"It's overdue, but never too late," Voldemort hissed, reaching beneath the cloak he wore and drawing out a long sword, one that Severus remembered well. It was Voldemort's primary weapon, favored over even the guns available at the time Voldemort had gone into his slumber. "I'll do what I should have done centuries ago - what Lucius claimed to have done!"

James laughed, a wheezing sound that gurgled in his chest. "You have no idea! It will all be over soon, and even if I don't live to see it, I've set it in motion, and you can't stop it. Nothing can stop it. The blood will mix, and it will bring your destruction."

"Abomination!" Voldemort shrieked. He took two steps toward James, lifting his sword high, then bringing the razor sharp blade down in a whistling arc, burying it in James' chest, straight through his heart. The old werewolf convulsed once, his eyes wide, but then he relaxed, his last breath released on a sigh that sounded peaceful. As James' eyes closed for the last time, a small smile curved his lips, as though, even in death, he thought he'd gotten the best of his ancient enemy. Voldemort stared down at James for several moments, his disbelief at James' smile obvious. Then he snarled and yanked his sword out of James' body, before turning his attention to Severus.

"You killed it," Voldemort said, satisfaction in his tone. There was enough blood around that Voldemort had obviously missed the puncture wounds on Remus' neck, not realizing what Severus had tried - and failed - to do. "Good work, Severus. Now let's go. We need to track down Lucius. The traitor will be caught, and we will stake him out to greet the dawn."

Severus didn't move at once. He was reluctant to release Remus' body, and he certainly didn't care about what Voldemort thought. Severus had but one purpose, now: to kill Voldemort, as Voldemort had killed Severus' family and had been, indirectly, responsible for Remus' death as well. All Severus wanted was vengeance, and once he had achieved it, he would walk out into the sunlight willingly, for there would be no reason for him to exist any longer.

Lowering his head, Severus pressed a tender kiss of farewell to Remus' lips. For all its brevity, his time with Remus had been the happiest he had known since becoming a vampire, and Severus couldn't bear to return to his empty existence. He moved Remus' body gently to the ground and rolled to his feet, turning to face Voldemort with his chin lifted and his eyes full of cold hatred.

"No."

Voldemort blinked, obviously shocked at Severus' refusal. Severus had never disobeyed an order before, and for him to do so now seemed incomprehensible to his Master. Voldemort's jaw tightened. "You will do as I say, Severus! Once we have hunted down Lucius, I will deal with your insubordination!"

"No," Severus repeated, the word stronger now, laced with the swirl of dark emotions Severus felt. "Lucius doesn't matter, not once he told me what I needed to hear. What matters is that I am going to kill you for destroying my family!"

The hatred in Severus' voice, the fury in his eyes was so strong that Voldemort, as powerful as he was, took a step back before he recovered himself. "You know nothing! I did what I had to do, and it was the best thing for you! You didn't belong with those sheep!" Obviously Voldemort found no reason to make a token protest to Severus' accusations, and he lifted his sword menacingly. "But if you are no longer loyal to me, so be it! You will die, too!"

"I'm already dead," Severus said, an eerie calm settling over him. It was the feelings of a man who had lost everything and knew it. He was unarmed, but he didn't care; he'd rip Voldemort apart with bare hands if he must. All that mattered now was making Voldemort pay, and pay dearly, for killing everything Severus loved.


	8. Chapter 8

Searing pain ignited Remus' blood, turning it to fire in his veins and bringing him back to consciousness; he'd thought the pain of his transformation had been the worst of his life, but this was far worse. He felt as if there were two beasts crawling beneath his skin, both fighting to get out, and his body was contorting, his bones snapping and reforming and his muscles stretching past the point of endurance. He opened his mouth to scream, but his jaw cracked and elongated, and he could feel fangs bursting through his gums.

He opened his eyes at last, shocked to realize he wasn't turning into a beast; his mind was still his own, and he still retained his human form. Mostly. His skin had turned a deep purple-ish blue, almost black, and his nails were more like claws. He had no idea what he was, but it was something more than human, something less than wolf.

As the pain subsided, Remus rolled onto his hands and knees, disoriented; the last thing he remembered was being shot and James urging Severus to bite him. He remembered the warmth of Severus' lips against his neck, the sting of Severus' fangs piercing his skin; he remembered drawing Severus closer as the feeding wove a strange intimacy around them, bringing them even closer. After that... nothing.

He became aware of voices, and he snapped his head up and saw Severus glaring at another vampire with utter loathing. It wasn't Lucius, so could it be Voldemort? Whoever it was was threatening Severus, and Remus growled, baring his teeth. He didn't care who it was; he wasn't going to allow anyone to hurt Severus.

It was the growl which seemed to break the tension between the two vampires, for they both whirled to look at him. Severus' eyes widened with surprise, then flashed with something that appeared to be a fierce joy, his thin lips curving into a smile that held welcome and satisfaction. The reaction of the other vampire, however, was quite different; he snarled, his lips drawing back from his teeth, baring long, ivory fangs.

"What is this? You've betrayed me, Severus!" The older vampire raised his sword and brought it down swiftly, aiming the point at Severus' throat.

Without thinking, Remus launched himself at the vampire, who had to be Voldemort to accuse Severus of betrayal, and impacted as hard as he could, not holding anything back; his new body was either stronger or heavier than he realized, because he hit Voldemort hard enough to send them both tumbling to the ground, and Remus tried to use the momentary advantage this gave him to pin Voldemort. But it was far harder to achieve than he counted on; his new body might be more powerful, but he didn't know how to use it yet, and he wasn't a skilled or experienced fighter to begin with. Voldemort had no such handicap.

Baring his fangs, Voldemort threw Remus off, tossing him hard enough to send him flying into the wall, and Remus' breath was knocked out his lungs when he hit. He crouched and shook his head to clear it, and he forced himself to move quickly, but Voldemort had already gotten to his feet. The only good thing as far as Remus could tell was that he'd dropped that big-ass sword of his, and Remus counted it as a small victory as he scrambled to his feet and squared off with Voldemort anew.

From the corner of his eye, Remus saw Severus circling around behind Voldemort, trying to get the older vampire between the two of them. Severus wore a look of grim determination, his fingers curved into claws, his eyes never leaving Voldemort. Then in a blaze of speed, Severus attacked, lashing out at Voldemort with one foot, landing a blow to the side of Voldemort's head that would have broken the neck of an ordinary human. The kick landed hard, but Voldemort merely grunted and lurched to one side, but he recovered quickly. One hand lashed out, grabbing Severus' ankle as Severus' foot came down, and with a casual flick of his wrist, Voldemort sent Severus cartwheeling toward a wall. Severus impacted hard enough to knock loose stones out of the low ceiling, and the sound of Severus' skull hitting the wall sounded like a gunshot. Severus slid down the wall, leaving a streak of blood in his wake.

Infuriated, Remus snarled and rushed Voldemort again, spurred by fury and instinct more than skill; he tried to punch Voldemort, who easily dodged the blow, and Voldemort smiled mockingly as he mimicked the punch, as if he counted on Remus being too slow and stupid to avoid it. Without thinking, Remus grabbed Voldemort's fist, and Voldemort's smug expression shifted to shock, especially when Remus began to squeeze harder and harder, wanting to feel the bones crack beneath his fingers.

But brute strength was no real match of centuries' worth of experience and cunning, and Remus found himself breathless and doubled-over from a blow to his stomach that felt as if Voldemort had literally punched a hole in his gut. Voldemort swung again, snapping Remus' head up and loosening his teeth with a blow beneath his chin, followed by a brutal shove, sending him reeling backwards.

"Pathetic." Voldemort sneered as he swaggered toward Remus, who wiped blood from his chin and tried to stand upright despite how his head was spinning. " _You_ are the one meant to destroy me? You're weak. A pitiful abomination who shall not be suffered to live!"

Grabbing the front of Remus' ripped and blood-stained sweater, Voldemort lifted him and flung him back, sending him flying _through_ the wall; he wanted to howl from the pain, but the impact knocked him breathless again, and he fell soundlessly for what felt like an eternity until he hit the water below with a resounding splash.

They had to be in the lowest levels of the tunnels, where drainage from above finally pooled into a rank-smelling pond. The icy water was a shock, and as Remus looked up, he saw Voldemort gathering himself, then leaping down into the water as well, landing on his feet with inhuman agility. Voldemort walked toward him, seeming intent on Remus' destruction, but Remus saw something else, something Voldemort missed. Up above, Severus staggered into the opening, and in one hand, he held Voldemort's sword.

The last thing he wanted to do was alert Voldemort to Severus' approach, and so Remus bared his teeth in a defiant growl as he struggled to his feet; he taunted Voldemort with a beckoning gesture, hoping to keep Voldemort's attention solely on him until Severus was close enough to strike.

"You're a glutton for punishment," Voldemort hissed as he drew closer. Behind him, Severus landed in the water, the sword still gripped in his hand, and although Severus made more of a splash than Voldemort had, Voldemort's concentration was all on Remus. 

Remus let his growl escalate into a howl to help cover the sound of the splash, and he moved into a tense crouch and flexed his fingers, prepared to spring; the thought of ripping out Voldemort's throat with his teeth or claws filled him with a fierce satisfaction he'd never felt before, and he had no qualms about killing Voldemort for more reasons than one.

Voldemort smiled thinly, coiling his own body as though preparing to launch an attack. Before he could, however, there was a loud splash and a blur of motion as Severus leapt completely over Voldemort and landed at Remus' side. Severus lurched, reaching out a hand to steady himself against Remus' shoulder, and then he turned so they were both facing Voldemort.

There was shock on Voldemort's face, coupled with disbelief that Severus could defy him in favor of a creature that Voldemort had deemed an abomination. Then his expression shifted into anger, his eyes narrowing. But then, horrifyingly, his face changed again. It almost looked, for a moment, as though Voldemort's face was melting, slewing to one side slowly. Then the truth became apparent; Severus had swung with the sword as he'd passed over Voldemort's head, and the fine steel had passed completely through Voldemort's skull at an angle. As they both watched in silence, the top part of Voldemort's head continued to slide, falling off into the water with a splash. A moment later, his body tumbled in the opposite direction, making a larger plop into the water. Then all was silent.

Remus stared at the vampire's corpse in disbelief, and then he turned to Severus, shock giving way to relief as it sank in that both James and Voldemort were dead, and Lucius was likely long gone by now. They were both free and - miraculously - alive. He reached out, but when he caught sight of his blue-black skin and disfigured hand, he drew back and lifted both hands to touch his face, finding features more beast than human, and he gazed at Severus in dismay. What if he didn't change back? What if he was stuck in this form? He doubted Severus would want to touch him like _this_.

Severus stood looking at Voldemort's body for the space of several heartbeats, but then he turned to look at Remus, searching his face. Perhaps he saw something of Remus' doubt, for he dropped the sword into the water and drew Remus into his arms, wrapping Remus in a strong embrace.

"We did it," Severus murmured. "I don't know how, but we did it. Together."

Remus slid his arms around Severus, relieved that Severus wasn't repulsed by his new form, and he pulled Severus close, softly growling his agreement as he ran his nose along the side of Severus' neck, scenting him. His senses were heightened, making everything so much more vivid, and to him, Severus' scent was enticing, comforting, and welcoming all at once. To him, Severus smelled like home.

Severus gave a soft gasp as Remus growled, tilting his head back to give Remus better access. He didn't seem to mind anything Remus wanted to do, tightening his arms around Remus' waist rather than pushing him away. "We should go," he murmured, although he made no move to step back.

Remus didn't want to let go either, not when it seemed they had done the impossible and survived this whole ordeal, but perhaps now they would be free to go their own way at last. With a soft sigh, he released Severus and stepped back, but he held out his hand before he began to move, wanting the reassurance that physical contact offered.

"You may look big, tough, and scary, but you're still Remus inside," Severus said, his lips twitching in amusement as he took Remus' hand, giving it a squeeze. "Come along, then. I don't know where we're going, but anywhere is better than here." Severus glanced at Voldemort's body where it floated in the water. "I have no ties any longer. You don't belong with the werewolves, and I don't belong with the vampires. I suppose that means we're stuck with each other. Good thing I find you tolerable."

Lacing his fingers with Severus', Remus made a chuffing sound that was the closest he could get to laughter; he didn't try to speak, no matter how much he wanted to, because he didn't trust his new - and hopefully temporary - physiognomy to let him speak intelligibly. He glanced back at Voldemort and kicked his leg enough to create a wave in the water that buffeted the body even further away, and then he tugged Severus' hand, ready to leave this place for good. Whether the war continued or not was no longer his concern, but with the main antagonists who had started it now dead, perhaps both the vampires and the werewolves would reach some sort of understanding.

Either way, he didn't care. As long as he was with Severus, he was where he belonged, and that was all that mattered to him.

~*~*~*~*~*~


	9. Chapter 9

The sun set, and Severus opened his eyes, finding his vision filled with a mass of wavy, sandy-brown hair. He was nestled against Remus' back, one arm thrown possessively across Remus' waist, the covers over them both creating a warm, comfortable nest.

The events of the previous night came back to him. They'd left the tunnels, and Severus had thrown his leather coat over Remus to hide him as they returned to the car. Severus wasn't certain what the outcome of the battle between the Death Eaters and the werewolves had been, nor did he care; his one concern was getting both of them as far away from the place as he could, as quickly as possible. Lucius was still out there along with a large number of enraged werewolves, meaning they wouldn't be safe unless they put some distance between themselves and their potential enemies.

Fortunately the vampires had a number of safe houses, and Severus doubted anyone would bother searching for them yet, not with the number of Death Eaters who had been killed in the fighting and the destruction of Voldemort; for all anyone knew, _they_ hadn't survived the battle either, which gave them some time to recuperate and plan their next move. He had chosen a safe house that hadn't been used in a while, and even though it was small and spartan, it was sufficient for their needs.

Remus had transformed back to his normal state not long after they arrived, which seemed to be a tremendous relief to him. They had both been exhausted, and while they had showered together in the small stall, it had been more to help prop each other up than for any lascivious purposes. Severus hadn't needed to feed, not after having fed on Remus, and then they'd collapsed in bed, too exhausted to do anything even before the sun rose.

Now it was another night, a night they had to survive while figuring out where to go and how to make a life for themselves. There were few rogue vampires, for the clan was careful about who was chosen to be indoctrinated, but it did happen, and Severus had no doubt they could manage somehow. If they were lucky, both sides would assume they'd been killed, and they could disappear into obscurity. But for now, they had a few moments of safety, and Severus stroked Remus' bare chest as he pressed his lips to the back of Remus' neck, then bit down lightly.

Remus stirred and tilted his head to offer Severus better access, and Severus could feel as well as hear a sleepy growl rumbling in his chest. "Nice way to wake up," Remus murmured drowsily, nestling against Severus.

The growl sent a shiver of need down Severus' spine. He'd never thought a werewolf's growls could be erotic, but then he'd never wanted a werewolf the way he wanted Remus. He chuckled, skimming his hand down Remus' abdomen, then lower so that he could tease Remus in sensitive places. "I'm simply glad to have the opportunity to wake up and to have you beside me. Last night, I was in grave doubt." He grew more serious, and his lips were tender as he trailed kisses along the side of Remus' neck, lifting his head so that he could reach the hollow beneath Remus' ear. "I thought you were dead and that I'd killed you. I'd already made up my mind that I wasn't going to face this night without you."

Remus shifted just enough that he could look at Severus, his expression full of affection. "You saved me," he said softly, stroking Severus' arm gently. "I was dying, but you brought me back. I'm grateful for that, despite the changes. I wasn't ready to leave you." He smiled wryly. "Of course, I'm grateful I won't look like the love child of Bruce Banner and Hank McCoy full time, too."

"Even if you hadn't changed back, it wouldn't have mattered to me," Severus replied. Remus' words were a balm to his soul, and he leaned down to press his lips to Remus' gently. "The important thing is that we are both alive. Well, you more than me, but you know what I mean. And now I'm going to shag you into the mattress, so you will remember you're alive and can feel."

He could feel Remus shiver just before Remus rolled onto his back and held out his arms. "Yes, please," Remus said huskily, his eyes gleaming with desire. "Remind me I'm still alive. Make me _feel_."

Severus wasted no time moving over Remus, kneeling between his thighs and pressing him down into the mattress. He claimed Remus' mouth hungrily, Remus' taste familiar and beloved to him even after so short a time. His desire rose swiftly, as though his body, too, needed the reminder of its continued existence, the assurance that they had survived.

He skimmed his hands along Remus' sides, and he moved up enough so that he could reach Remus' nipples, stroking them gently with his fingers before tweaking them more roughly. If Remus wanted a reminder that he still lived, Severus would give it to him and leave him begging for more.

Remus let out a yelp of pleasure and arched his back, reaching up to stroke Severus' chest, stomach, and thighs. "Yes," he moaned against Severus' lips. "It feels so different now. I can feel so much _more_ , like everything is intensified."

"Nice to know there is a benefit to being blue and muscle-bound," Severus replied, baring his teeth in a wicked smile. "And fortunately for me, I don't have to worry about holding back for fear of hurting you or refrain from biting you, either." His smile became hungry, and he lowered his head so that he could press his lips to Remus' throat, and then he bit down, not breaking the skin, but letting Remus feel his teeth, a reminder that they were now bound by more than simply the bonds of desire.

"No, you don't have to hold back," Remus replied, tipping up his chin and offering his throat, and he wound his arms around Severus' shoulders, holding him close. "I don't want you to hold back. I can take it. I _want_ it."

Severus lifted up and gazed down into Remus' eyes. "You shall have it. You shall have everything you want," he promised, then lowered his head again, biting down on Remus' throat. This time he didn't hold back, breaking the skin and tasting the warm, sweet tang of Remus' blood on his tongue, moaning as he savored it, relishing the connection he felt as Remus' memories washed over him.

He caught flashes of Remus as a boy, playing with plastic action figures; as a gawky adolescent student, his nose buried in a book; as a young man, striding purposefully along the corridors of a hospital. The memories offered him more insight than hours of conversation ever could, and he felt as if he knew Remus better and on a deeper level now. Beneath him, Remus tightened his arms around Severus and echoed his moan, an unmistakable sound of pleasure, and he could feel Remus relax and surrender, obviously having no qualms about the unconventional foreplay.

Severus lapped at the wound with his tongue until the bleeding ceased, then licked his lips. "You've had an innocent, sheltered life," he murmured. "Not that it will keep me from debauching you. I'm not that altruistic." Reaching toward the table by the bed, Severus retrieved the bottle of lotion he'd placed there the previous night in both anticipation and hope of things taking an amorous turn once they were both rested. He poured a liberal amount into his hand, then moved to the entrance of Remus' body, caressing him, beginning to prepare him for being taken. 

"Does that feel more intense as well?" he asked, doing his best to torment Remus into incoherence.

With a strangled moan, Remus bent his knees and let them fall open, and Severus could feel his body growing taut already. "Yes," he groaned, clutching at the sheets. "Yes, it does. More. _Please_."

"So polite, even in bed," Severus murmured, redoubling his efforts. He leaned down to suck and bite at Remus' nipples as he scissored his fingers. His own desire was rising, swift and hot, the sight of Remus with his head thrown back making him hunger for their joining, to be buried deeply in Remus' body.

The thought was enough to make Severus moan, and he reached for the lotion bottle again, unable to wait any longer. He quickly coated himself, then lifted Remus' hips, positioning himself as he gazed down into Remus' eyes. "No more politeness," he said. "What do you want? Tell me, Remus. Tell me exactly what you want me to do."

Remus stared up at him with widened eyes, as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd heard, and his mouth worked for a moment before sound finally came out. "I want you to take me," he said at last, sounding endearingly awkward and shy about it. " _Really_ take me, no holding back."

Despite his own aching arousal, Severus lifted a brow and shook his head. He moved one hand to smack Remus' hip. "If you don't want me to hold back, then you can't hold back either," he growled. His hand moved again, to encircle Remus' hardness, giving him a single, teasing stroke. "What do you want? Let go of your inhibitions and say it. Tell me what you _really_ want."

Remus shuddered, and he bucked his hips in a seemingly reflexive response to the teasing. "I told you," he replied, sounding breathless this time. "I want _you_." His pale eyes darkened as he gazed up at Severus, and he reached up to cup Severus' cheek in his palm. "I want to feel you so deeply inside me, I can't tell where I end and you begin."

"Well, that's a start," Severus said, relenting a bit. He turned his head to press his lips into Remus' palm, then lifted Remus' hips again. "I'm going to take you as you wish... for now." 

With that Severus pushed forward, claiming Remus with one swift, hard thrust, pushing until he was buried deeply, then holding still. "Like that?" he asked, trembling from the effort of holding back when he wanted to pound into Remus, but he was also enjoying teasing Remus, wanting to drive him out of his mind with need.

With a soft cry, Remus clutched Severus' shoulders, his fingers digging in hard, and he rocked his hips to meet Severus' thrust as if to send him even deeper. "Yes, yes, just like that..." he moaned. "More... please give me more!"

Satisfied with Remus' reaction, Severus pulled back, then surged deeply again, then repeated the motion before holding still once more, not certain how much longer he could retain his own control. "Is that enough?" he asked, his voice low and husky. 

Remus' moans escalated in volume and urgency as he moved with Severus and tossed his head on the pillow. "No!" He raked his nails down the length of Severus' back and clamped his hands on Severus' arse as if trying to urge him on. "No, damn it," he exclaimed, a growl underlying his voice, and Severus could see something wild and inhuman rising in his eyes. "Harder! Take me like you mean it - like you'll die if you don't!"

This was what Severus wanted, what he'd been trying to call forth - the wildness in Remus, the darker part that now matched the darkness in Severus. Severus arched into the scrape of Remus' nails, relishing the edge of pain that made the pleasure seem even more intense. He pulled back again and wrapped his hand around Remus' arousal. 

"I _will_ die if I don't," he replied. "If I don't have you begging and incoherent beneath me, shattering into a million pieces. You are mine... all mine." He held still for a moment longer, then thrust forward, hard, holding back none of his vampiric strength, knowing Remus could take it.

"Yes!" It was a wild shout, although whether Remus was agreeing with Severus or expressing his relief at being given what he wanted at last, Severus couldn't tell; either way, Remus was unraveling beneath him, his fair skin flushed and dappled with sweat, meeting and matching his strength easily. "So good - so perfect..."

Severus' eyes were locked on Remus' face as he continued to move, giving Remus everything he wanted. The first time they'd made love, he'd been afraid of hurting Remus, but this time, he could let himself go completely, and he did, taking Remus deeply, the bed beneath them shaking with the force. He continue to stroke Remus in counterpoint, driving him closer and closer to the edge, watching for the moment when Remus soared over it.

Remus moved with him, their bodies rocking in unison and with fluid grace, and Remus' pleas devolved into incoherent groans and growls as his body grew taut; Severus could feel the tension building, the bond between them resonating with their shared pleasure, and he could sense when the moment neared, when Remus came undone beneath him, wild and abandoned in the throes of ecstasy.

"Yes, yes," Severus murmured, watching the sight avidly, even as he continued to move, wanting to draw things out for Remus as long as he could. But he couldn't hold back much longer, and with a cry, he shattered, swept away by the most incredible pleasure he'd ever known, completely overwhelmed by it as he'd never been before.

Collapsing down against Remus' chest, Severus held still, unable to move for a few moments. When he could, he rolled to one side, pulling Remus into his arms and pressing his lips to Remus' forehead. "That was... incredible," he murmured. 

Remus wound his arms around Severus in return and nestled close, a contented growl rumbling in his chest. "Yes, it was," he murmured, burying his nose against Severus' throat. "And just think, we have an eternity of incredible sex ahead of us."

"We'll have to explore all the possibilities," Severus replied. He ran his hands over Remus' damp back, marveling in the feel of Remus' skin. How incredible was it that they were here now, together after all despite the impossibility of it? A mere twenty-four hours before, Severus had been determined to find a way, but in his heart, he hadn't really believed it might really happen, not with the war between his kind and Remus'. But now Remus was... something else, and his Master was dead, and everything had been plunged into chaos. There was no telling what tomorrow would bring.

Lifting up, Severus looked down into Remus' eyes. "Do you really want that? To be with me always?" he asked, his voice deep and husky. "Humans use terms like 'eternity' and 'forever' without truly realizing how long that is. I've existed for... a long time. A very long time, and for the first time, I see the true loneliness of it. I have no wish to go back to that, but the danger isn't over for us. It might never be over."

Remus gazed up at Severus, but he didn't answer right away, appearing lost in thought as if he was giving the question careful consideration, which was fine with Severus; he would prefer a thought-out response over glib, hasty reassurances. Then Remus smiled and reached up to stroke Severus' cheek tenderly.

"It seems crazy to say yes, I really do want to be with you always when we've only known each other a few days," Remus said at last. "But I felt a connection with you from the moment we met even though we were in the middle of all that chaos. Our eyes met, and boom!" He shrugged and gave a self-deprecating smile. "I never believed in love at first sight, but..." He trailed off and shrugged again, a little bashfully this time. "I don't know how else to explain what happened to me when I saw you. We've saved each other's lives, you've drunk my blood. We're connected. I don't feel like I belong anywhere else than by your side," he said simply, looking at Severus in that guileless, open way of his. The way that made Severus want to snog him senseless, which he proceeded to do.

After a time, Severus drew back again, pressing his lips to Remus' forehead. "I'm glad you feel that way," he murmured. "No one in all my years has touched me the way that you do, and so when I promise forever, you know I mean it." Stroking Remus' arm, Severus sighed. "Before we can begin on a new life, however, there is something I have to do. I have to go back and destroy Lucius. It's the only way I can be certain we will be safe, since he is the only one who could possibly be motivated to come after us should it be discovered we are still alive. He might believe we're dead, but I can't take the chance that he will discover we aren't and decide to pursue us. It's a risk I cannot take." 

Remus worried his bottom lip, and Severus could see a flare of concern in his eyes. "I don't like it," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "But I understand. Lucius does have the potential to be the proverbial thorn in our side, and I'd rather not spend the next few centuries looking over my shoulder because of him. Is there anything I can do?"

"Come with me, if you don't mind," Severus replied, moving a hand to stroke Remus' cheek soothingly. "Lucius isn't the fighter that Voldemort was, and you are more powerful than you were, but I do not like the thought of us being separated, not yet. Not until I feel we're safe."

Remus relaxed, his features suffused with relief at that, and he nodded as he leaned into Severus' touch. "I'm not much of a fighter, but at least now I have strength and speed on my side. You won't have to worry about me so much anymore."

"I will teach you to fight," Severus promised. He grimaced ruefully. "I regret the necessity, but I would rather that you know how to fight and not need to do so, than need to and not know how." He was silent for a moment, debating something with himself, and then he added, "I have something for you, if you'd like it. The pendant James wore. I took it from his body before I picked up Voldemort's sword. I wasn't certain why I felt compelled to do it at the time, but now I realize I have a few of James' memories, which I got from you when I bit you. They are much fainter, but it is enough that I know something about that pendant is important, and I think, somehow, that James would want you to have it."

"Really?" Remus regarded him quizzically. "I suppose that makes sense, though. He wore it for centuries, so at the very least, it has sentimental value. I don't feel any particular attachment for him, but he made me what I am, and in a sense, I have him to thank for being with you."

"Don't thank him too much," Severus huffed. "You could have been with me as a vampire, and I would have made it your choice, not bitten you to serve my own ends." He waved a hand as though unconcerned, but his eyes darkened with remembered pain. "But be that as it may, I find I do have some small amount of sympathy for what he suffered, given that Voldemort also destroyed what I love. I understand James' need for vengeance, and I can't truthfully say I wouldn't have been as cutthroat in his situation. I also believe he would have approved of us together. He might have been the one immortal who understood."

"He was faithful to his vampire lover for centuries, so I think he would have understood, too," Remus replied, smiling as he nestled closer and stroked Severus' chest gently. "But I plan for our story to have a happier ending. Once Lucius is out of the way, there won't be anything or anyone stopping us."

Severus wrapped his arms around Remus, holding him tightly. Remus' words gave him a superstitious chill, but he did his best to ignore it. Lucius wasn't that tough; he was crafty, yes, and calculating, but in a physical confrontation, Severus had no doubt he'd prevail. He just had to be sneakier in forcing that battle than Lucius would be in trying to avoid it.

"It would be nice to have a happy ending, for a change," he murmured. _If such a thing exists_. Pressing his lips to Remus' forehead, Severus fervently hoped it did. Not for himself, as much as for Remus; Remus deserved his happy ending, and Severus made a silent vow to do everything in his power to give it to him. No matter what it cost.

* * *

Regulus had never gotten into the habit of wearing a timepiece; pocket-watches hadn't been invented when he was turned, and after becoming a vampire, he didn't see the point in keeping track of time like a mortal who had a limited number of hours to live. All he needed to know was when the sun rose and set, and his own instincts told him that. Now, however, he wished for a watch so he would know how long he'd been trapped in this dank, dingy little cell.

He still had no idea why the werewolf had kidnapped rather than killed him, and he wasn't sure the beast had done him any favors. He'd heard the distinctive sound of battle before the mutt had shoved him in the cell and run off, which he assumed meant someone had breached the werewolves' defenses. He didn't know whether it was Lucius or Severus, but either way, it didn't bode well for the werewolves - or for him. They might very well turn on him, torture him, or use him as bait or as a hostage to barter their way out of whatever mess they were in. For his part, Regulus would rather be killed outright than be used to benefit the mutts in any way.

He paced restlessly around the perimeter of the cell one more time before pausing by the door, straining for any sign of someone else, and when he neither saw nor heard anything, he released an annoyed huff and began to pace again.

Suddenly there was the sound of hurried footsteps, and the werewolf came into sight, his dark hair tousled and his face pale beneath its tan. He stopped in front of Regulus' cell, breathing heavily as though he'd run quite a distance, and he gripped the bars with white-knuckled hands.

"There's a problem," he said, his light tenor voice rough and husky. "A bad one."

Regulus stood in the middle of the cell and stared at the mutt with a stony expression, his arms folded across his chest. "Your problems are not my problems."

"It's not just my problem; it's yours as well," the werewolf said, shaking his head. He bit his lip. "Lucius killed James, our leader, and then Voldemort showed up, and some other vampire killed _him_. Apparently Lucius went back to your base, and... well, we're not certain what happened, but _something_ happened there. They're dead... the vampires, I mean. Your base has been demolished, and it appears everyone was slaughtered, including Lucius. And now your brother..." The werewolf sighed, his eyes full of an odd sadness. "Sirius has assumed leadership of the werewolves, and he sees this as our opportunity to kill all the vampires who are left."

" _What_?" Regulus stared at the mutt, aghast, and he shook his head in vehement denial, refusing to accept that the mutt could be telling the truth. "No... No, you're lying! It's impossible. They can't all be dead!"

"Why would I lie?" the werewolf asked, looking at Regulus intently. "I don't hate vampires. What I hate is this stupid, pointless war! Killing and fighting and _why_? It doesn't make any sense. There are few enough of my kind and yours put together that we could live in peace without ever having to see each other, so seeking each other out for torture and murder is more than wrong. It's _evil_ , and I'll have no part of it!"

"Which would be why you kidnapped and imprisoned me," Regulus retorted. "Why would you lie? Because you're a beast! You and your kind are nothing more than animals, and you should all be put down!"

The werewolf stepped back, an expression of hurt in his dark eyes. "I put you here so you couldn't kill any werewolves, and so they couldn't kill _you_. If I'd wanted you dead or tortured, it would be done by now." He drew himself up proudly, even though he was a slight, slender man, and his chin came up. "And for your information, _sir_ , I am no beast. I have a doctorate in literature and mythology, and I was a college professor... before. You can believe we are animals, but you are wrong, just as the werewolves are wrong in believing that vampires are all blood-sucking psychotics who live to prey on man. There are those on both sides that fit those stereotypes, but most of us do not." He lifted a brow. "Unless you are one of the blood-sucking psychotics, in which case I apologize, and I'll go procure a gun with the ultraviolet rounds and put you out of mankind's misery here and now."

It was Regulus' turn to draw himself up proudly, and he stared down his aquiline nose at the werewolf. "I have not fed on a human in decades, and I have not killed a human in centuries. I only kill werewolves."

"Are we not human? Do we not bleed?" The werewolf spoke softly, then sighed, a sad, weary sound. "I see. Well, in that case, I'm afraid I can't let you go. I don't want you to kill _anyone_ , nor do I want them to kill _you_. And, unfortunately, I have to talk some sense into your brother before he commits an act of genocide. No small feat, as I'm sure you probably know. Sirius is just as pigheadedly stubborn as you appear to be. Must run in the family - as does the sexiness. Tell me, do you have any nice human relatives anywhere?"

Regulus was momentarily taken aback by the reference to his family's - and by extension, his own - sexiness. Under normal circumstances, he would have agreed, but he had never considered mutts capable of appreciating such things, and he had certainly never viewed any of them in a sexual light. He had always thought of having sex with a werewolf as little more than bestiality, and he was appalled by the thought of one of _them_ looking at him.

"My family are none of your business!" he snapped. "They would have better taste and sense to look at a disgusting mutt."

The werewolf's eyes narrowed. "Well, at least one of them did more than look," he drawled, before drawing in a breath and becoming more businesslike. "I'm sorry you feel that way, since it means I have no choice but to leave you here. I'll return as quickly as I can." He smiled wryly. "Perhaps you should hope I survive, since I'm the only one who knows you are here. Drawing attention to yourself would be... unfortunate, I'm afraid. So, unless I come back, you'll no doubt get very, very hungry. You compare us to beasts, but I don't think you'd end up much better, do you?"

Regulus went still, going cold inside at the thought of being left here; vampires wouldn't die from lack of blood, but withering away until he finally went into a comatose state wouldn't be easy, quick, or pleasant, and Regulus didn't want to experience it. "Why can't you let me go? I could find a way out and steer clear of your mangy pack. I need to return home. I need to find out who is still alive!" He didn't care if Lucius was dead, but Severus...

Stepping closer to the bars, the werewolf gave Regulus a searching look. "Tell me, beautiful one, if our positions were reversed, would you let me go?" His voice was soft, almost gentle.

Regulus took an involuntary step backward, disconcerted by the combination of the mutt's gentle tone and the unexpected compliment, and he found himself replying with the unvarnished truth rather than a glib attempt at manipulation. "It would depend on why I was holding you captive," he said. "But most likely, no. I would not."

A wry smiled answered his admission. "I told you why I'm keeping you here, and despite your distrust, I assure you I have no need to lie. I've never caught on to the games the immortals like to play, and I've spent most of my time trying to find out why there is a war, and then how to put an end to it. I'm afraid I'm more of a lover than a fighter, but there are odd men out in every group, aren't there?" The werewolf stepped back again. "I will return as quickly as I can, I promise. It will be sunrise soon, so it will probably seem shorter to you. A good thing, at least. Until then..."

Surprisingly the werewolf stepped back and offered Regulus a old-fashioned, courtly bow, executed with all the grave dignity of a born noble. "My name is Gaius, and I do hope we can come to some sort of truce. Under different circumstances, having a man like you locked up and at my mercy would be something I would find titillating. Unfortunately it seems we have little chance of coming to that sort of compromise. Pity. You really are lovely."

With a smile and a wave, he turned and walked away, and Regulus watched him go in silence, too confused by the conversation to respond. This werewolf was unlike any werewolf he'd ever met, although granted, his experience with werewolves had primarily occurred at gunpoint. Still, he had little choice but to wait and hope the werewolf did return; he wasn't foolish enough to trust the mutt, but he didn't need to trust, only to be patient. His time would come, and when it did, he would take advantage of it and get himself out of this untenable situation himself.

Resigned to his fate - for now - he returned to the narrow cot attached to the back wall and sat down. And he waited.

-End of Book One-

~*~*~*~*~*~


End file.
